Boy, this alphabet sure is long

This alphabet thing is now killing me. I realize that other languages have more than 26 letters, but since we're only on G, and this exercise is supposed to finish at the end of August, we may skip a few and move this thing along.

We're settling in this week, the kids have started their first full week of school, and are starting to feel as if they are part of the crowd. I'm actually remembering more mothers' names than I forget, although I'm not sure I'm actually associating them with the right children. I've figured out the whole drop-off / pick-up routine, and while my protest was color coordinated, my own children are forcing me to walk in and get them. (They have clearly lost all common sense.)

Every afternoon, we are starting our own little gratitude lists - things we love at school, new friends we've made, what new cool thing we've learned. It's great for all us to take the time on the drive home to think through what's good about our day, even for me. I love the gratitude lists, especially on the days when they are toughest to make.

So G stands for gratitude lists.

And H stands for the hiding from other parents I'll be doing if it gets out that one boy has a touch of an anger management problem.

I? I has to stand for the ice cream I just consoled myself with after learning of said anger management problem. And the loud, wailing "Iiiieeeee" noise that came from me. My apologies for disrupting your cell phone service, the frequencies must be similar.

J is likely for the jokes that we will make of it to get through it - case in point? Not 45 minutes after I get the call from the school, my husband gets one from the headmaster.... about the turn lane he'd like to propose to the transportation board. (Seriously? We thought the boy was in his office and that we were royally screwed.)

K is for the kittens my husband had after the phone call. Litters of them, I tell you.

L is for trying to laugh at every situation, no matter how dire. If you can't laugh at it, you'll never muddle through, we always say. (Yes, we are the people telling jokes at the funeral. Our apologies.)

And M? Well, M is for Mayberry, of course. We'll tackle M tomorrow, since to no one's surprise, I have lots to say on the subject.