Saved by the Belle

Levi is bouncing off the walls waiting for kindergarten to start, while Kylie's routine of sleeping until noon is about to abruptly come to a stop and Kalvin's PSP is going to get a little less game time. In two weeks I will be sending not one, not two, but three kiddos off to school. All with new shoes, shiny binders, freshly sharpened pencils and a willingness to learn. The willingness to learn will wear off before the first week ends, as will the whiteness of the new shoes. The pencils will be broken and the binders will be shoved into backpacks filled with papers I will probably never see, but I will still be singing along with the radio at the top of my lungs, smiling until my cheeks hurt as I head home after morning drop offs. Yes, smiling. While other moms may be whimpering in the hallway as they drop off their tender hearted kindergartner for their first big day of school I will be heading out the door in the way of the leprechauns, jumping and clicking my heels like I just found what is in that pot at the end of the rainbow.

Why am I so excited, over the moon, ecstatic about the return of school days?

I have FOUR kiddos. Yes I have four kids, and yes I know how it happens, and yes they all have the same dad. Do you know how many times I have had to make that comment recently? I just need to make that a disclaimer on my blog. I get questions about the paternity of my children from perfect strangers and casual acquaintances more often than necessary. And by more often than necessary I mean EVER. Is it ever appropriate to ask someone you don't know, barely know, or maybe you know them but not intimately--- who their kids father is? But since the topic is obviously up for debate and seems to be burning a hole deep into my inbox lets me set your inquiring minds at ease. Kyle, my husband-- the one my kiddos call daddy, is indeed their father. I am done ranting about monogamy. Ask again and I will deny all of it.

Now back to the original intention of this post which is to compare my new found happiness with the jolliness of leprechauns. I don't think leprechauns are jolly, maybe that is just St. Nick and his elves. But, I am undoubtedly bursting with jolliness at the thought of hearing that school bell ring. Just me and my baby Belle until four o'clock every afternoon. She and I will be visiting Starbucks every morning for a grande white mocha frappuccino and a child's vanilla soy milk, then hitting the stores. My little baby girl loves to swipe daddy's Visa.