All I Really Need to Know I'm learning in Kindergarten

     When I was a kid, I loved school.  I loved every teacher I ever had in elementary school.  I can't remember a moment of stress throughout my academic career until high school.  All I'm saying is: I am now on my second round of Kindergarten, and this is definitely harder than my first rodeo.
   
     Myla just finished her third week of school, and for the most part, she loves it.  But three weeks in, and I still have to promise every day to stand by the crosswalk until she gets to the front door of the building so I can wave to her whenever she turns around to look for me.  About a week ago, she told me that she walks into the front door every day and begins to cry because she can't remember where her classroom is.  Talk about mama sadness.  (Note: there is always a teacher to help her, and the principal herself has been the one many times to help show her the way.  Some of them just point when they see her coming now.  Bless them). She had the knowledge, but her fear overshadowed it.  Dave started practicing with her by pretending our house is the school and simulating the walk.  She still does that every day "for fun," saying, "Walk in, turn right."

     I feel like I'm nudging Myla out out onto the edge of the branch while gripping Piper's hand so she doesn't walk off the edge (and tying Jon David to the freaking tree so he doesn't kill himself).

     Parenting is weird.

     One of the weirdest things about this phase is that it so clearly reminds me of some of my worst qualities.  I'm not sure if you know this, but I am one of the most forgetful people in the world.  I cannot be expected to do or remember anything unless it is written down on a post-it at eye level in my house.  My house sometimes look like the set of A Beautiful Mind, only without all the beauty.

     I have always been this way.  In high school, I somehow made it to a dance competition without packing part of my costume (despite years of hearing Jon Kemp's life lesson: Always pack your uniform first.  You can buy everything else at Walmart).  I couldn't find it for the life of me, and if I didn't wear that white scarf, the other 7 dance officers would have to perform without the scarf as well.  I called Dad in a panic and asked him if he could find or buy a white, silk scarf that was 1 ft by 4 ft.  He loves to tell this story, but it goes something like this: Dad walked into a Jo-Ann Fabric, held up his both hands and said loudly, "I have a drill team emergency!"  In his version, fabric angels immediately flocked to him and began to help him in his time of need.

     Dad bailed me out of that one.

     The problem now is that I am supposed to be the one who has it all together!  I could laugh it off as a mom of babies when I'd show up somewhere with a diaper bag with zero diapers in it. Now though, I'm concerned I will forget to pack my kid a lunch, or forget to drop her off, or forget to sign her daily folder, or forget that it's her freaking birthday and I'm supposed to bring treats, or forget that it's parent night, and I really don't want to leave the house after I'm already in my pajamas.

     Basically, this new phase has me facing new challenges and reminding me of the old ones, so the next 12+ years should be fun!