I sent Molly to her second first day of preschool this morning. Heh.
Things are so different this year. Things are amazingly wildly different than three or four years ago, when I had two little babies at home - it wasn't that long ago, you know? I used to write here about my timid little boy getting bossed around by all my friends' little girls, how he'd break into tears at the slightest thing. And now he's marching into kindergarten without even saying goodbye, getting annoyed when I ask him how his day was, raising his hand, speaking out, swinging across the monkey bars. That's MY kid.
Molly happily disappeared into her classroom. It went exactly how I expected - completely anticlimactic. She's older, bigger, not at all intimidated this year. It's awesome! It's also sad. It makes me squeeze Emma when I get home and make deals with her to stay squishy and babyish forever.
Phillip is going to be out of town the last week of the month, and today he told me he most likely has to go part of next week too. I'm just putting that out there, in case anyone has any sway with the sleeping-through-the-night gods.
I don't feel like I have much in me right now, only what absolutely needs to happen - so the driving back and forth, the making of meals, the folding of underpants. I feel like things are getting dirty and forgotten about. I tried to get a few things done while the girls napped this afternoon, but I gave in to my eyelids, set the timer on my phone, and passed out on the couch. Lamest part of my day: waking two very tired girls to go get their brother.
Best part of my day: getting dinner on the table - dinner everyone will eat - and Jack is chatty and talking about how they were sorting at school today and the way he says "sorting" in his little Jack accent just makes me melt.