BFF Target

Two weeks before the school year began marked the date for The Great Shopping Trip.

Did you know that in public school there are really long supply lists that each kid is required to procure (is there a demerit if you forget an item?). The items are as far reaching as clorox wipes and as clearly relevant but oddly specific as #2 Ticonderoga pencils. I guess that the way it works is that the teachers have a little budget for their class but don't want to use it on the (truly required) red, yellow and blue Mead 2 pocket, 3 hole punched folders.

Did you also know that at Target (my store of choice for most everything), there is an aisle of school supplies that contains not only the obvious #2 Ticonderoga but also the clorox wipes? This leads me to believe that around August of each year, the good people of Clorox take a trip on a fancy cruise-ship celebrating their brilliance at creating such a wildly successful germ fighting wipe. At least I would were I one of them. But since I couldn't afford private school this year you have probably ascertained that I am not a Clorox genius.

So we had three lists and a baby who likes to chew on lists in a cart. 3 hours later, we picked up the final pencil bag (pencil boxes will not be permitted, the note reads) and checked out. It occurred to me for a brief moment that tuition may have indeed been a savings over the cost of this supply trip. The kids were pretty excited though about their supplies, in particular my environmentally obsessed daughter who purchased only recycled items, cashing in on her strong beliefs in saving the planet to get cool supplies.

There were 12 Target bags that needed to be sorted, labeled and efficiently put away until such time as school would be open for us to bring them in.

Of course, the school didn't have a certificate of occupancy yet, but no worries here. It's all good.

The Summer Stomach Ache

I have a stomach ache son. And that same son eats only chocolate and bacon. So each meal needs to be carefully planned to contain only those two ingredients in different formations. When you add in snacks, that's 5 meals a day and it's complicated.

To further complicate the necessity for 5 different formats of chocolate and bacon, his stomach hurts and I think he's allergic to chocolate. But this summer was the stomach ache capital of the universe and with each life change the stomach hurt again and the chocolate food requirements became more stringent. No longer was the sneaky Special K Protein bar (10 grams of protein - wow!) acceptable, in fact it was gross. A chewy granola bar with dark chocolate chips (a sad 3 grams of protein) swept in and took its place when we moved to the new house which required room sharing with his brother (who incidentally eats all manner of broccolini, papaya and cous-cous).

When an Au Pair arrived from Chile, turkey bacon needed to be cooked lightly, not crispy. As the school year loomed larger, plain pasta hurt his throat. Even Shel Silverstein couldn't make this up.

Not that any of us felt differently, some cried, some slept, some yelled. The palpable stress crept in and I would gladly have eaten freeze dried meals for life in exchange for the security of a croc intensive, sticker chart free schooling environment.

We learned a lot about resiliency this summer. And really only slightly less important, we learned that cocoa puffs, bacon and a gummy vitamin make a fine meal, even 5 times a day.

The Reveal

A fairly substantial quantity of angst goes into sharing news that is both embarrassing and unavoidable. As the school year began to come to a close and year end conferences bled into curious discussions about next year's teacher assignments, the inevitable reveal was impending. The conversations were fairly consistent:

"So what grade will your kids be in next year?"

"3rd, 1st and K!"

"Wow - what teachers are you thinking you'll have?"

"Oh - um, we won't be here next year..."

(uncomfortable silence)

"Oh no! What? Where are you going? Why?!"

"We're going just across the street to the new elementary school - it looks great and will be so much more affordable for us. So hard to leave here but we just have to give it try."

Now it became most interesting and, indeed, most revealing about the nature of the conversational partner and a somewhat engaging portrait of their relationship with our family. Listed in order of frequency of conversational debut:

1. "We thought about that too but just couldn't leave. It's so hard to get in here after all..."

2. "I'm sure it will be fine, I hear good things..."

3. (leaning on BMW X3 while holding keys to multimillion dollar mansion) "Tuition is so outrageous - it's so hard to stomach that bill"

4. "Wow. Stay in touch OK. Thank goodness for facebook"

Of course, there was an occasional "Johnny will miss Debby" but the horror that the choice implied was indisputable and the shock was a conversation stopper with even the closest of friends.

Because of being totally stuck, the rounded eyeballs brewing with terror and pity fell on deaf ears. I was righteous in the choice, smiling with assuredness knowing that I could bemoan my situation with a tear or two in the car later.

Why new beginnings always signal an ending is one of those bittersweet mysteries that I'm not thinking I'll solve. The school year ended as they will, and the sunny sunny summer of change commenced with the promise of making new friends and keeping the old.