I'm sitting here in the relative quiet of the living room, pondering the great wonders of my small universe. I can only call it relatively quiet because the girls are running around searching for cats and threatening to put them in a bag when/if they find them. Their flight path goes through the living room, so every few minutes, my serene "relative quiet" is interrupted with, "I'm going to find you and put you in this bag, kitty-kitty!" (I'm not worried about this because I have great faith in our 3 cats' unique ability to not get caught by the girls.)
So here I sit, pondering.
The girls are starting Kindergarten in T-minus 6 days. How is that possible? Where has time gone? I keep mentally going between "Ready" and "Not ready" about the whole thing. I'm "Ready" to have those 2 1/2 hours to myself everyday. But "Not Ready" to have to get into the schedule of getting up and getting ready for school everyday. I'm "Ready" for these two to make new friends and have fun little dramas to share with me everyday about it. But I'm "Not Ready" for them to turn into little girls I don't recognize who say things like, "Whatever" and "OMG" and "Yeah, right"...with a 'tude. (I don't think I'll ever be ready for that).
I can't stop time, can I? All I can do is go with this. At the moment, I just want to get the first day out of the way and over with. I'm ready to move past this part and get to the part where it's all just routine. I get myself all psyched out about stuff like this and it drives me nuts. For the last 6 months I've been living under a strict rregime of "This Time Next Year...." and I hate it. Every single thing that we've done has been measured in those terms; it's driving me nuts. I'm finally at a point where I can say, "Hooray! Kindergarten. They'll do great", and I almost believe myself. (Ask me in a month and I'll have more confidence behind that statement).
Looking at my girls, I can say they're ready, even if I'm not. They're quirky, funny little things who, if nothing else, should provide many funny moments in the classroom environment. Just today I had a rather heated debate with the two of them over a bump that has appeared on Ashlyn's forehead. I inspected it and determined that it is most likely a bug-bite. Caedance scrutinized the protrusion and declared that it was most certainly a pimple. And Ashlyn, owner of said bump, shot us both down with the proclamation that it was, in fact, the very startings of a unicorn horn. (Well color me surprised; my girl's got herself a unicorn horn.)
Now a nice little breeze is gently whispering through the windows, and the girls have quieted down a bit in the other room. Apparently they've gotten bored with their futile attempts to capture and bag any of the cats, and have moved on the swinging a selection of their favorite stuffed animals around by their tails instead. And even though I could continue to sit here and ponder my many ponderings, I think I'd rather be done for the night. I'm not too sure where it all gets me anyways. For the moment, I'll resign myself to just look straight ahead and say, "Girl, you've got 2 Kindergartners on your hands. Deal with it." We'll see how that works for me.