Today we started 7th grade. When I say we I mean my little baby dwarf who shouldn't be anywhere near old enough actually went to school while I sat and worried about her. Okay, I didn't really sit, I ran around like a lunatic trying to get everything done that needs doing before Monday, when , by the magical time of 8:40, ALL but 3 little ones will be at their assorted places of education. I didn't ever think I would be one of those moms who had one graduating and one turning a year old at the same time. At least I'm not like the cliche moms who are pregnant at their oldest child's wedding!

We still have to make one last trek to the store before school starts. It just wouldn't be right to start school in old shoes. I mean really, why bother wearing the old shoes at all when there are blisters to be had? One kid inherited the love, and I mean LOOOOOVE, of shoes from both grandmothers. I hate shoes. I wear them only when I have to go in somewhere, when there is snow on the ground, deep snow not just a sprinkle, or when the pavement is so hot it threatens to melt your feet off. I hate shoe shopping almost as much as I hate wearing shoes.

They are loading into the van as I type, I wonder if I sit here long enough if they will just come back in and put themselves to bed? Happily? Maybe happily is too much to ask.