Firsts Don't last

One child in high school
Three children home
Two children grown, not on their own
One grandchild
One daughter
One snuggle on my lap
One question
One statement
So many tasks
Consecutive days of First
Days quickly pass.

Firsts

Yesterday, Johnny started First Grade
He came to the house before school, but I missed him because I was still sleeping. He returned after school. He came over to me and put his head on my lap,”Grammy.” He wanted a snuggle.
His body seemed long, tall, his hair a darker blonde, cropped close to his head, longer than it had been,
in his white shirt and blue pants he appeared grown up,
not little anymore, a boy ready to explore, but the little one in him needed more, a warm lap, and a big hug.

Last night, I waited for him to come from his father’s.
They pulled up in the other Grammy’s car. As he stepped out,
he looked like a baby again, innocent face, thin arms and legs, blue cotton button shirt, crème colored safari shorts, and new white sneakers and socks. He hugged me again. I dragged his little bike upstairs, he rode it for only a minute as he said, “I can ride my bike without training wheels, the one at G’s,” he said.
I asked, “Did you ride it today?”
“No, I guess Daddy, well I guess,” he never finished his sentence and I didn’t ask.
“Daddy had Kim’s car today, but I wouldn’t ride in it. I don’t want to ride in Kim’s car.”
I didn’t ask him anymore questions. Maybe he wanted to keep his thought to himself, I don’t pry. I try to listen.
We read books; he took his bath, and made formulas.
We played Thomas even though I told him I didn’t know how.
We moved around track and set up the bridge and he said,
“See, you know how, you are playing Thomas!”
It was a hard for him to settle into rest, he tossed about on his bed, had a pillow fight, rubbed his feet against his dresser, stretched out his legs and his arms, “Keep the light on Grammy, I’m afraid of the dark”. Night came. “Maybe you should put out the light.”
He said it was a good day.
I hope day 2 is just as good.

This morning, Dianna went to school, she took the T. I am pleased. I need her to get her self there and home again, that drive was killing me.
I took her picture. She posed, “You haven’t taken my picture in ages.” Not so. She just forgets.
She has a purse this year.
“How do you carry a purse and a back pack?”
Suggestions:
“Put your back pack on your back and pick up your purse or put it into your back pack, what ever works for you.” I didn’t noticed what she did with it.
I think she is carrying it on the side.
I remember my first great pocket book, a saddle bag with two front pockets, a rich cocoa brown that went over my shoulder; I was into browns then…. Brown is coming back in---
Here, at home, I am, alone with the dog snoring, one son sleeping, not looking for a job, waiting for his child to be born, other son over his friends, the group of them are contemplating joining the service. I begged him no.

One child in high school
Three children home
Two children grown not on their own
One grandchild
One daughter
One snuggle on my lap
One question
One statement
So many tasks
Consecutive days of First
Days quickly pass.