For 6 hrs, my brain has reeled every thought pertaining to my daughter's school day. I can't help but feel the desire to be with her and help walk her through all the steps of confrontation.
My thoughts were interrupted by the big yellow bus pulling up to the concrete pad. I stepped out of my car and scanned the crowd until I locked eyes with my daughter, as she made her way down the bus steps. She jumped into my arms, but wasn't herself. She looked a cross between being exhausted and sad.
I asked...
But, she stayed silent, as I buckled her into her car seat.
I didn't pry...
She looked over at her sleeping brother and softly stroked his head and said, "sister's home now." To which his eyes rapidly twitched.
I drove away from the school, nonchalantly asking questions about her day. She replied briefly and focused onto the screen in front of her.
I pondered many thoughts in these quick moments. Most of them being the mad rush that will take place once we get home. The drill is always the same during the week. We rush home, I finish the remaining parts of dinner and I talk to her, or she watches Henry Danger for a half hour to detox from school. My husband comes home shortly after and then we all sit together at the dinner table and eat. We then clean up afterwards. Begin homework, take baths or do a fun activity. Then, we spend the last remaining time doing our nightly designed bedtime routine.
But, after glancing back at my daughter through the rear view mirror, I decided to change things up a little bit. I called my parents and in code, asked if they wanted to meet us for food, then go to the farm -which, they did.
So, I turned the car around and drove to the restaurant to meet my parents, fielding questions from my daughter. In the process, my sleeping son woke up and participated in the game, 20 questions.
Within minutes, my parent's car pulled in and my daughter and son shrieked a sound that mimicked an injured animal. And then, tried to release themselves from their car seats, like they were escaping from Alcatraz.
We ate dinner, played eye spy, and laughed a lot. The best part was, I didn't watch the clock once. Except of course, when I guessed the clock color as the answer.
We then made our way to the farm to walk the grounds and feed the animals and consume ice cream from the dairy store.
We followed the same path that we have always taken since my daughter was only a year old and my son was only a twinkle in my heart.
Each child took turns being the leader of the adventure and both were also annoying each other being back seat drivers...
Typical sibling scenario...
My daughter shared her sheep food with a little girl who was standing by fence, fondly admiring the sheep. And my son scolded the sheep for nibbling his favorite shirt.
Our second stop was to my daughter's favorite barn, to read to the baby cows. She slowly thumbed through each book that were piled on an old crate, until she found the perfect one. Then shimmied herself onto the oversized white rocking chair and began her story. My son quietly walked up and down the narrow hallway between the pens, picking up piles of fallen hay and hand fed the baby cows that were standing close to the rails waiting. I stood off to the side with my head stretched out towards the small window with every attempt to breathe fresh air.
After too many stories were read (my son already left the small barn and was over at the bunny area with my parents), my daughter and I left to meet up with them, only after she said her goodbyes to each cow.
Over at the duck pond, both children made sure each duck was given the same amount of food. And both scolded the big white ducks when they became too aggressive towards the littler ducks. The words, "Mr. Ducky, you already have had too many pieces!" were spoken from my son.
When the food ran out, my children and I competed who can walk across a little stone ledge the furthest without falling. My son totally won... And I fell within a few seconds after the photo below was taken. My daughter took a great action shot of me losing my balance.
The time was approaching 7:00 and the remnants of ice cream was plastered on my son's shirt and my daughter's cheeks. I knew our day had to end so we could get back home to do her homework and take baths before bed. But once we arrived home, homework was done quickly and we decided to play more. So the three of us stayed up an hour past bedtime and laughed and acted silly longer than we usually do. Which is tough, because we're pretty silly people.
With the sun finally set far below the earth's horizon and the cool fall night time air blowing into the dark bedroom, we said our good night chants, long after the last stories were read.
My daughter and son both thanked me for a fun day and closed their eyes with the most peaceful looks on their little faces. And I was very glad I decided to break the daily routine.
Because sometimes, the best days are the spontaneous, unplanned ones. And it does feel great to break up the monotony of the repetitious week. And considering the look on my daughter's face when she stepped off the bus, I'd say, she needed
She needed to be herself. Because who she is, is an old soul trapped in a modern age child's body. She's different than the majority of the other children, mainly because, I'm different. She has a mom who never followed the trends around her. Who took the brunt of other people's comments just to be who she felt was her. But, it'll take her a long time to realize that being different is a very good thing. Eventually, she work out all the quirks and find a groove that works for her. But until then, my job as mommy is to show her how special she is and to love her to excess. And to help her become the individual she wants to be, not who everyone else is...
And occasionally, break up the routine and have a little spontaneous fun...
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