Back to Back to Back to Back to School

Sam's school hosted its Back to School Night a few evenings ago--that annual event where your name suddenly becomes YOUR CHILD's NAME HERE's Mom and you have to squeeze into tiny chairs at really low tables while focusing on the teachers' every word. Displaying their dizzying energy, Sam's two teachers led us through the morning meeting--songs, date, weather, colors, shapes--all in Spanish, before turning to their power point presentation highlighting things like the importance of good nutrition and the perils of flip flops in school.

One of their topics was consistency, an idea that has been creeping into my consciousness lately. Routine, as you may have heard, is GOOD for children, who need the same breakfast at the same time of day, the same well lighted desk to do their homework at the same time, and the same drill that moves them from the dinner table (you guessed it--served at the same time each night) to bed. 

Our house is full of affection, encouragement--even nutritious food. But as a seat-of-the-pants operation, we're desperately low on routine of any kind. It's always been thus for me: when I worked in New York and was supposed to take the 6:06 train (or whatever) to Greenwich, Conn., each night, I failed utterly at living by a train schedule, not to mention the marriage that accompanied it. Eventually, I moved back to Manhattan--alone. Ralph, who might be roped into habitual behavior more easily than I nonetheless works odd hours--days, nights, and weekends-- the schedule of which is rarely the same twice. So it might be me pouring the Puffins or scrambling the eggs and taking the kids to school or it might not be. Ditto with pickup and dinner. And I like it that way. One of the reasons I married Ralph is that I knew he would never be home for dinner every night and that I could therefore eat Golden Grahams standing over the kitchen sink. The one routine I truly embrace!

I think it was Woody Allen who said that 90 percent of life is just showing up, as though showing up were the easy part. I am here to point out the folly of that idea. For example: getting Sam to school the first day was full of excitement; this morning (day 18), we were all a bit more disheveled and not quite as prompt. God knows what we'll be like by the time June rolls around, but if last year is any indication, it won't be pretty.

Sam, who is something of a child hypochondriac, told my friend Katy a few days ago that he had "atendonitis" in his leg. I heard it as "attend-initis." And I thought, Are you kidding? It must run in the family!