Delightfully Boring

That was our drop-off today.

After finally getting bus info yesterday at 3:30 pm (I called one final time during our trip to the aquarium), we had quite the crazy morning, but then?

It all kinda fell into place.

At least I hope it did.

From where I was standing it did, anyway.

Sure, I realized at the last minute that I actually had to pack her a snack (<--spoiled by generous daycare) and that I didn't buy rubber gloves or a notebook, but I improvised.

1. Goldfish crackers and a cut up pear with a bottle of water. How excited was I that we actually had paper lunch bags in the pantry? VERY. Probably overly.

2. I have no idea why we had a baggie full of gloves under Playette's sink, but we did so I grabbed them.

3. We had manila folders in the office so I grabbed one, stapled a piece of printer paper inside, and wrote "Playette's Notes" in red marker on the outside.

I am so proud of myself it's borderline pathetic.

So, there I was, rushing around and sweating in my turtleneck and cords and furry boots in August, when I heard a noise.

Like a diesel-y truck noise. It took me a few minutes to realize that it wasn't trash day and more than likely that was Playette's bus sitting out in front of the house.

I grabbed her, ran downstairs, threw open the door and there it was.

The short little, yellow bus.

Wow.

I soaked that in for about 5 seconds (ok, whatever) and then walked to the door, introduced us to the driver, asked if she would be the only child every day (no, there are two others), where she would sit, and a couple of other things. I told him that we'd see him tomorrow and off he went.

Playette was very shy-acting during the whole thing, until I reminded her that the wheels on the bus go round and round. Then she got excited. That girl loves a soundtrack. Hopefully, that's a good sign and she'll be good to go tomorrow.

A few minutes later, we left and I drove to the preschool. Her teacher was waiting out front with another little boy that had just gotten off of his bus. Together we walked inside, passing in between the rooms of the children in Head Start screaming on our left and some of their parents outside crying on our right.

Once in the room, Playette got to exploring. She was happy. She started playing with the little boy. It was that easy.

I talked to the teacher some about what I had brought inside my Santa Sack o' Crap and that was that.

I left.

No tears from either one of us.

I always feel bad that I don't get sad about stuff like this.

I'm just glad that from her perspective that it all went smoothly.

I'll leave in a few minutes to start the afternoon transition from preschool to daycare. Hopefully, it'll be snooze worthy. That's what I'm hoping for.