Taking Little to school in the morning is quite an experience. It looks something like this:

• There is no “drop-off” for Little so I must park and walk her to the backside of the building; the location of her classroom.
• A large percentage of kids walk, ride bikes, or ride a scooter alongside their walking mother.
• An equally large percentage of parents use this as an opportunity to walk their dog and so there are canines everywhere.
• Everyone hangs outside while waiting for the bell to ring. When the bell rings, kids run in every direction to line up outside their classroom (all classrooms open to the outside . . . and inside) door and wait for the teacher to open the door and let them file in.

Now, imagine if you will what happened this morning and know that this has been the routine for the past week+.  I park the car and Little and I cross to the sidewalk in front of the school and begin the walk to her classroom; the distance to her room is about that of a football field. As we walk I try to make eye contact with other mothers so as I have the opportunity to say hi, but other mothers are busy chatting with their neighbors/friends and making sure their dogs are not jumping on anyone or attacking another passing dog.

Today someone calls out “Hi, Little!” This is a first, but I am sure it will only increase in frequency as folks grow to know her and fall in love with her personality and voice.

Between our car and the classroom we pass seven dogs. Each time we pass a dog Little gets distracted, stops, turns and says, “I like your dog, ” and then follows that up with either “What kind of dog is it?” or “What’s your dog’s name?” I get her focused and walking again, only to hear “I like your dog. What’s your dog’s name?” and turn to see that I left her seven steps back and I need to go get her walking and focused again. This happens at every dog. We have gotten to school on time everyday but she has almost been late everyday this week because of dog chats on the way to her classroom.

Once I get Little to the back she walks away as I say, “Have a great day! Honor Jesus.” Today she calls back, “I will! You have a great day at home and honor Jesus at home.” Then I walked the football field back to the van and thought about how funny my life is AND how every parent is dressed like a Berry student who grew up, got a dog, and moved to Ft. Collins. I think that every morning. And then I go get coffee.

I’m not at the moment – getting stuff done.  I am remembering why I accomplished so little as a stay-at-home mom before.  Today I have talked on the phone with my mom and given her a Facetime Tour of our new home, talked with my former landlord and dealt with a bill I didn’t know I missed, emailed a teacher and a child’s case-worker, and read an article my Uncle sent that was well worth the time.  Now it’s noon.

I was supposed to be finishing up Bubba’s room and doing laundry. I’m going to get to it. . . right after I blog about the update in Bubba’s room and the “fun” we had putting it together.

Bubba got a new bed and, like everything else in 2014, it was bittersweet for me. The bed Bubba has slept in for the past 6+ years is a captain’s bed that I bought (with 2 side tables and a large dresser) off Craigslist for $30.  Honey painted it the perfect chocolate brown that I picked out and it was the perfect little boy bed for our little boy.  Deep. Sigh.

The house we rented without ever walking through it is a nice little house. Bubba’s bedroom is a small room and his perfect bed is not small or flexible.  It HAS to go along a wall and it is bulky – it filled the room and left little space for anything else.  When we went to IKEA a couple weeks ago, Bubba saw a loft bed and actually told himself how much he would love to have that.  I overheard the conversation and had to admit that he was right – a loft bed would really open up his room and allow for some versatility.

Since our van was filled to the top with the items already purchased at IKEA, we didn’t get the loft bed BUT I started combing Craigslist and quickly found a family in town (vs. Denver) selling a loft bed with a desk and bookshelf for the price of the bed at IKEA. We finally put the bed in Bubba’s room Sunday evening.

Everybody got involved . . . Bubba helped with the screws:

Little practiced “ballet” while the men worked:

Basically, everyone tightened a screw or held something in place for another person and the job got done.

Then it hit me. . . I can’t lay down beside my little boy to pray with him anymore.  No more back scratches while we talk through his day. My little guy is turning nine in a couple days and this bed pushed him toward growing up much more quickly than I planned.

When I mentioned I was bit sad that I couldn’t reach to kiss him goodnight, Bubba said just the right thing. . . “I guess I’ll just have to come back down.” And he did.