This week started off pretty good.  Both of the girls were starting to get over their colds, and so was I.  And, after five days off, we were all happy to get back to school.  On Monday morning, on the walk to school, Dee Dee surprised me a little by asking if she could walk to the front door by herself.  Audio and I said goodbye to Dee Dee at the spot where one of Audio’s teachers collects the children dropped off by parents who stop their cars in the street, alongside the school, for their kids to get out, then drive on to work, or wherever.  The bell had already rung, so I knew that Dee Dee would be able to head straight to the door and walk right in without any trouble.   

I often think about the mother of a boy who had been in Dee Dee’s preschool class who told me last year (when her boy was in second grade) that her son forbade her from walking with him to the front door.  I can’t imagine Dee Dee forbidding me to walk with her.  But, while Dee Dee walked away from Audio and me, I did wonder if I was done walking with her all the way to the door. 

After Dee Dee had disappeared, I held Audio’s shoulder, turning her towards me a little, and tried to get her to acknowledge that I was leaving.  After she hugged my leg and said goodbye, another parent smiled and said, “I have to do the same thing.  I have to wait until we have eye contact before I know that she’ll hear that I’m leaving.”  So, I have one daughter who walks away from me and one who doesn’t notice when I’m walking away.  And, it turns out that those are both normal things for kids their age.  

On Tuesday morning as we arrived at the schoolyard, Dee Dee again asked me if she could walk to the front door alone.  After Dee Dee said goodbye to us, Audio and I stood near the “dropped-off kid collection station” and watched as Dee Dee continued along the sidewalk that leads to the front door of the school.  After she’d gone about twenty yards, Dee Dee turned and ran back to us.  When she got to me, she asked, “How long until the bell rings?”  I told her it would ring in about two minutes and she hustled away again, disappearing into a group of bigger kids, ducking, bobbing, and weaving her way through the crowd. 

At dinner that night we asked Audio how her day had gone.  She reported that one of the mean kids from her class got in trouble for standing on a table.  My wife asked if this was in the cafeteria, and Audio told her that it was in the classroom while they were getting ready to collect their lunch from the cafeteria and bring it back to the classroom to eat, at the table.  She said that the teachers had the mean kid help them clean off the table so the other Hi5ers could eat off it.  I asked if the mean kid actually helped clean off the table and Audio said that he did, and then proceeded to get back up onto the table and started jumping up and down until the teachers got him off the table and brought him out of the room. 

After we finished eating, I talked with Dee Dee about how walking to the door alone was going well, but that since Audio has the option of meeting one of her teachers near the street or meeting the other teacher by the front door, there may be times when I will be going all the way to the front door with both girls, since I’m not ready to let Audio go without me.  I jokingly asked Dee Dee if she would hide around the corner from me on the days that I walked with Audio all the way to the front door.  Dee Dee answered, “Maybe.”  Then, Dee Dee proudly explained how that morning she had slid between the wall and the bike rack to wait for the bell to ring.  Then, when the bell rang, managed to weasel her way into the middle of a group of bigger kids to make it safely into the building without being pushed or pulled or bumped into. 

On Wednesday morning, I got Dee Dee out of bed first and she went and woke up Audio where she was sleeping, in my bed, or as the girls call it, “The big bed.”  As if the bed belongs to the whole family, and their mom and I just happen to sleep in it a little more often than they do.  We got started a little later in the morning than I’d like to.  And, with the girls (and me) still being a little sick, it seemed like everything took a little more effort and took a little bit longer than usual. 

While eating breakfast, Audio sneezed and a chunk of pancake flew out of her mouth, bounced off her arm and landed on her chair between her legs.  I found myself raising my voice at her to hold still as I grabbed a paper towel and then cleaned her and the chair.  We’d forgotten to pull Dee Dee’s hair back into a pony tail, and it was getting into her syrup.  The girls wanted to send texts to their mom, but my phone had done some sort of update and wasn’t working as normal.  But eventually the girls ate all the pieces of pancake that had been arranged into a W (for Wednesday) on their plates, and then moved on to the bathroom stage of the morning. 

Getting in and out of the bathroom, getting teeth brushed, and changing into school clothes was little more chaotic than it usually is.  Audio urgently had to use the toilet, so I tried to assist her by pulling off her pajamas.  The top came off easily, but we ended up with both of her pajama legs getting stuck around her ankles with her hopping around holding her crotch.  She did make it to the toilet in time, but in the process I lost Dee Dee who was hiding behind the dining room door, warming up near a heat register.  By the time I found her, Audio was out of the bathroom and was in the living room removing the caps from all of her markers, and getting ready to color.  I shooed Dee Dee into the bathroom but before I could get back to Audio, she had drawn a line on her arm that I spent the next few minutes washing off. 

In order to get the girls moving along, I told them they would have time to watch an episode of Bluey if they hurried.  And, if they really hurried, they could watch two!  This got Dee Dee out of the bathroom and onto the couch, but she’d forgoten to brush her teeth.  So, I sent her back to the bathroom while I helped Audio get her clothes on.  Audio was more interested in to showing me how her shirt and sweater were attached than she was in putting them on.  But soon, after a few reminders that we were running out of Bluey time, Audio was dressed, and her teeth were brushed.  I asked if I could do something with her hair and she said, “No.”  Then, Dee Dee, teeth brushed, made her way back to the couch and got settled in and comfortable until I reminded her that she still needed to get dressed. 

After two episodes of Bluey, which is enough time for me to catch my breath, we started our exit.  Audio ran to the back door and opened it.  I asked her what she was planning to wear on the walk to school and she ran back to put on her jacket and mittens.  Unfortunately, she could only find one of her mittens.  In their search for the missing mitten, both girls squeezed into our entryway, bumping into each other, leaving no room for me to see the floor, let alone search for the mitten.  So, I was relieved when Dee Dee held up the other mitten and announced, “Here it is!”  Audio put on the mitten, Dee Dee finished getting her jacket and gloves on, both girls found shoes that matched, I grabbed my phone, keys, and pepper spray and we left through the still open back door.   

When we got close to the school, at the spot near the street where one of Audio’s teachers collects the kids who are dropped off by their parents, Dee Dee asked if she could walk alone to the front door of the building.  I said that she could, but noticed that none of the kids from Audio’s class had arrived yet.  So, I asked if Audio wanted to wait there alone or if she wanted to walk with Dee Dee to the front door, and meet the other Hi5 teacher there, when that teacher came out to collect the kids who get dropped off by the bus.  Audio said that she wanted to go with Dee Dee.  Dee Dee didn’t mind, so the three of us walked to the front entry together. 

We have a spot, a little off to the side of the front door, at the edge of the sidewalk where we’ve gotten used to standing over the last couple years.  It’s an area where a bit of the sidewalk curves out into the parking lot, ending the parking area and creating a driving lane for cars to use to drop off kids right at the front door (which parents are not allowed to do in the morning).  There is a clear view of the front door, as well as the door that Kindergartners and First Graders enter through, and one can see the location near the street, where the Hi5 students who are dropped off by their parents are collected by the other Hi5 teacher. We can see everything and everyone from that spot.

The spot is back, out of the way of the excited kids who race along the sidewalk, bouncing off of each other and everything in their path.  I’m always surprised that no one is ever standing in that spot.  It could be because it is right next to the parking spot reserved for the school principal (it’s marked with a metal sign mounted on a rusty, metal post), or if it’s because people assume that we’ll be standing there and they find us annoying.  Either way, it has been the perfect spot for us to huddle together in the morning and wait for the bell. 

We didn’t have to stand in our spot long before the bell rang.  While we waited, Audio approached a girl from her class, smiled and bounced up and down with her for a bit before saying goodbye to Dee Dee.  I always forget how small Dee Dee is until I see her walk into the school, surrounded by kids who are bigger than her.  A few moments after Dee Dee entered the building, Audio’s teacher exited it and made her way over to near where we were standing.  The teacher smiled at the few children who had been waiting for her but before she could say anything, she stopped and braced herself for a couple of children who were charging directly at her. 

From the direction of the bus drop-off spot, I heard and then saw two children.  A small, sprinting boy was being followed by a bigger girl, who had a grip on the hood of the boy’s puffy, winter coat.  The girl was shouting something unintelligible at the boy.  The boy and the girl both stopped when they got to the teacher, who asked the girl what was wrong.  The girl announced in a loud, panicked voice, “My mom told me to stay with him,” and then burst out crying.   

I had a hunch as to who the boy might be.  The teacher confirmed my guess when she used the name of the table dancer from Audio’s class as she put one arm around him.  Then she bent down to the girl, wiped the tears from her cheeks and told her that everything was going to be all right and that she did a good job of staying with her brother, like her mother had instructed her to do.  As I watched, I realized that I was squeezing Audio against me, tightly.  When I released my grip, I realized that she was still leaning on me with all of her weight, and then some, trying to back away from what she was witnessing.   

As the teacher wiped more tears from the girl’s cheeks, I ran my fingers through Audio’s hair and then squeezed her shoulder.  As other kids from Audio’s class arrived on the scene, the boy ran away from the student entrance area, towards the doors to the school’s main office.  His sister frantically yelled, out of unrequested responsibility and fear, that the boy was getting away.  The teacher assured her that he was fine, he was her friend, and told the girl that she had done what her mother told her to do and it was all right for her to go inside the school. 

The teacher wiped more tears from the girl’s cheeks, and then put her arm around the girl’s shoulder and slowly walked her to the front door.  After the girl was inside, the boy wandered back to the area where Audio and I were still standing.  The teacher walked back to the growing group of four and five-year-olds with a reassuring smile and started welcoming all the children and telling them that she was happy to see them.  I said goodbye to Audio, ran my fingers through her hair one more time and then walked home thinking about how no matter how rough we think that mornings can be at our house, they are much better than how some kids start their day.