This new link-up encouraging us to share pics that didn’t make it to the blog came at an exceptionally fantastic time. I’m focusing on just one morning of our lives from last week, but next month I’ll have more to share!
I give you, my outtakes.
I know what you’re thinking—”those are sweet pictures of adorable children on a nice little walk.” (oh, thanks!) And yet, this was a walk we took out of necessity.
It was Kai’s first day back at preschool (technically “three-school”) after taking a four-month break over the winter. I dropped him off in the morning, on pins and needles about how it would go, and of course my son was a champ. He dazzled the teachers and jumped right back into routine without any problems.
Sylvie (my one-year-old) and I had a nice little morning at home, even though we both missed Kai. I set out a little early to pick him up, because the kids are dismissed one at a time in order of which parent came first. So I buckled Sylvie in her car seat and started the car.
At least, that’s what I intended to do. The car didn’t cooperate. Somehow, the battery had died.
It was time to pick up my son from his first day back at preschool, and we didn’t have a car to do it in. I imagined him sad and alone after he’d watched each kid meet their mom, sitting at the craft table with his teacher, crying and wondering where his mother was. Perhaps a violinist was setting the tone in a corner of the room. Tumbleweeds were blowing in the hallway where I was supposed to appear.
Then Supermom Mode kicked in. I grabbed Sylvie’s stroller, bundled her up a bit, and we set out on a walk. As I started along in a brisk Not-Freaking-Out pace, I pulled out my cell to call the preschool director and then my husband.
But then I saw the time. And then I remembered that we live all of 3-4 blocks from the preschool. We were going to make it. I didn’t need to make any calls. As we walked, we took in the newly greened grass and the muddy spots on the sidewalk that marked the season. Being late wasn’t even a concern.
In fact, we arrived just as Kai was coming out the door with the second-to-last kiddo to meet me, and he had a big smile on his face. It was like our nice little walk was all part of a brilliant plan to get some exercise and fresh air. (That’s what I’m going with.)
Kai and Sylvie LOVED walking home so much that I’ve promised to do it again when the weather cooperates. I’m just thankful that on this day, there was no rain to make things complicated. A hundred other things could have gone wrong, but they didn’t. Kai even got to go to the auto parts store with daddy after lunch, and instead of a catastrophe, he had pretty much the best day ever.
Kai asks me to tell him the story of this day again and again, more than any other story I’ve told. He thinks of it as a great adventure, and his enthusiasm is contagious. That’s why we’ll always remember The Day Our Car Died with fondness.