Once again, I've lost a few days

I had a couple of folks tease me for lack of entries, so I am here to explain myself. 

*No, I haven't been 'resting' at the institution of Mr W's choice.

*No week-long jaunt to the spa.

*No lottery-win-funded whirlwind tour of the globe. 

Nope, what has kept me away from my writing entries and j-hopping has been that time-honored classic:  shame.

See, the kids have been back in school for almost two weeks now.  And I've promised to turn over a new leaf for them, and um, get them to school on time.

I must confess at this point that at the end of our last term, I was absolutely horrified, and amused, that the two big boys had, ahm, well, um,  I think it was 12 (or was it 13?) tardies on their report cards.  All of them pretty much my fault.

Between being a soft touch, and letting them sleep in as late as possible; and waiting for them to finish eating instead of hounding them with the "hurry it up, you have five minutes" (Mr W's approach); and ahem, my early morning surfing the net, the kids were always late.  Oh, sure, I could play the "you try getting all these kids ready and out the door in time" card, but really, only Nolan and Ben were needing to be out the door at the same time, and Audrey and Ryan could come along in pjs, no need to dress them...afterall, I'm in my pjs, why shouldn't they be?  No, really, it was all me making them late, so I decided this time out to try harder, for them.

Which means no before-school online time for me, because "just a sec, I'm almost done" turns into "holy shit, is that  the time?!!" as I scurry for my keys and rush them into the van.

The school is at the end  of my block, too, it's not like I've gotta fight traffic to get there.  "Mom!  Watch out for the jr high kids crossing the street for their bus!!" is about as bad as it gets.  (Or as good, depending on what  entertainment value one can get out of watching a 7th grader dive for the curb without messing up their look.)

I'm trying.  I've done well so far.  I had one false alarm, and it was due to the bell ringing early--not my fault.  I'm proud of myself, and them, because I've been getting them up earlier, and things have been moving much more smoothly.  If I don't count Ryan, who rolls over, cracks open an eye, and murmurs "one more minute, please, Mom" with the practiced skill of a 16 year old.  (Yup, that first grade can be a toughie.  He needs his rest.  Of course I cave.  But only for one more minute.)

Yet on the horizon, there's a window opening up...

I'm signing up Audrey for preschool soon.  A couple of days a week, for a couple of hours.  Yes, you read it right, I have to write it again, just to make myself believe it:  a couple of hours, two days a week, without any kids.

I'd say that I'm gonna be sipping lattes at the local coffeehouse discussing books with some handsome young man; or that I'll be carving out some "me" time (snort); but I know where I'll probably be...

and this might shatter my jet-setting image, but I'll probably be:

cleaning house; or I'll be helping out in the big kids classrooms; or I'll be working on our Art Masterpiece prep.

And really, that's okay.  Anytime I can get some work done at the school, that doesn't involve chasing down a toddler, trying to use a threatening "inside" voice, is time well spent. 

(Oh, but I'm sure I'll find some other things to do every now and then--afterall, two hours alone would be terrible thing to waste...)