The first week of August, I went over to the school to transfer the Goob in from the program she'd been doing on line last year. They said the school secretary was on vacation and to go back the next week. (Like no one else is qualified to handle a kid's paper work? I wonder about many things having to do with the school administration here.) Second week, there I was, filling out paper work and providing all sorts of ridiculous documentation and it was all mostly good, and then the secretary mentioned that school started for the kids on August 23.
I'd stupidly assumed it started near Labor Day (first weekend in September), because, well, they always do. And, in my defense, a lot of schools around here aren't going back until today, or even next week. IT IS NOT MY FAULT.
This revelation led to me running around like a lunatic for two weeks, because the Goob, as always, had timed a growth spurt to something important, and none of her clothes fit. Literally. None. We've outfitted her from the skin out. Shirts, pants, sweaters, raincoats, shoes, socks, outlet malls, malls, Target, Target again, mall again, Target AGAIN.
We did get her sent off successfully on the 23rd, wearing clothes that fit. I only sort of lost her once. (I met the wrong bus; oops.) I still owe the district a couple pieces of paper, including something that needs notarized (seriously?) and I keep getting more documents to fill out; I think they've got my contact info in ten thousand different places now. I'm tempted to just have it tattooed to the Goob's forehead.
The Goob has taken to it like a duck to water, even though she inevitably caught a germ the first day and is a big old puddle of snot. I've been sitting on the back porch, all surrealed out, wondering what in fuck and when having a kid is going to feel normal. (Yes, surreal is a verb in my world. Don't argue with me.)
The only person not loving it is Sekhmet. She's been drooping around the house, all sad and pathetic, during the day. Because she misses her bald kitten.
Now I get to go write a letter regarding the summer reading program. You know, the one the Goob wasn't enrolled in because she wasn't IN THE SCHOOL until three weeks ago. I got a very strongly worded, all-capital-letters note about it last night. I'm sure I can compose something suitably... polite.
Oh, and they asked me to join the PTO. ...the fuck?