So every time I sit down to write a blog, there is a crisis of some sort. Not the terrible serious kind, but more of the someone-is-crying-in-another-room-because-someone-else-has-decided-it-would-be-a-good-idea-to-jump-off-of-a-bed-onto-somone-else variety. I am behind. No one ever seems to notice whether I blog or not except for my mom, who calls when I get too far behind so she can check on the status of her grandmonsters.
Butterflies: we kept them for 3 days and then released them into the yard. Five caterpillars became 5 butterflies so that was a success. And it was also so long ago now that I can't really write articulately about it. Butterflies are free.
Jude started school on Wednesday. This began as a glorious morning of Jude crying, saying, "I don't want to go." Jeff was out of town for work so I took Jude and stayed with him until all of the first graders lined up and headed down the hall toward his class. He never even looked back.
Then I drove to work and cried. I'm not even quite sure why, except that first grade was even more difficult than kindergarten for both of us.
In the afternoon, I was nervous about picking Jude up from school, worried about whether he enjoyed himself. He threw himself at me, wrapped his arms around my neck and said "I loved today."
Oh, Jude.
He is loving the first grade and every day has said that he had a great day.
Sullivan, on the other hand, is trying to squeeze every last tantrum he can out of his two-year-oldness. He knows he only has a few weeks so he wants to get maximum crying and screaming done before he turns 3.
There. I've been able to finish this. And hope this next week proves to be better all-around.
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