School began with a round of exhaustion tears and trepidation. Mostly me, but a little from my boy who's eyes match his vivid blue Hair. The night before the first day I sat on my yellow couch turning his hair blue with pink foil for over an hour. I had the best laid plans. Lunches were packed. Outfits laid out. Supplies already dropped off. A mere 12 hours later I would be numbly watching the social media feeds, stuffing myself with chocolate and other mom's perfect photos of the first day of school.

Our day began at bed time. The children were sleeping. The house was quite. I searched my bedside jumble of books and electronic flotsam and jetsam frantically. Two mischievous puppies had managed to devour all my earplugs. Those essential spheres of nocturnal silence that help me to block out at least one of my 6000 over-active senses.

'I'd be ok. I'm tired. I'm sure I'll sleep.'

Then I heard it. The first few bars.

Noel had slipped into an unconscious symphony before I could finish unbraiding my hair. One gentle push disturbed the base line for a moment and then he shifted keys and went on. A stiff forearm shove was aimed at the horn section, but they went on without skipping a note. The final kick brought the conductor around and he faced his audience for a moment mumbling an apology. He rolled back over. I closed my eyes and began to count multi-hued sheep wearing white sweaters...backwards. Less than 7 sheep had pole vaulted over the fence when, without warning, he brought the entire orchestra to a crescendo. He held them for a moment and I held my breath and tried to calm my rapid heartbeat. I let out an audible groan when he launched into the next number with even more volume than the last.

A dissatisfied patron, I left the vaulted auditorium without ceremony carrying my favorite feather pillow. The alarm was set I reasoned, I was sure Noel would find me and wake me up in when it rang the next morning. The next few hours were spent skating along the thin edge of sleep. I laid there for an some undefined period letting unformed thoughts become solid and multiply until I decided to get up 'early' and face the morning.

'I will get up and fix the kids a fancy first day of school breakfast,' I thought. When my eyes focused on the glowing numbers on the oven I could feel every muscle in my body tense.

It was late. Very late. Noel had woken with the alarm, but seeing the empty bed he reasoned that I was already up and benevolently letting him sleep in while I managed the first day festivities. So, he rolled over and gave an encore presentation to the empty room.

I barely hung on to my wits as I ran upstairs to demand/plead for him to help me get the kids ready. The next 20 minutes were a jumble of pushing tired arms and legs into shirts and shoes, tags being ripped off new backpacks, and hair and teeth being brushed with out regard for pain. The fancy breakfast turned out to be a half bowl of cold cereal. I was reciting any number of fragmented mantra in my head 'it's ok' 'nobody will notice we are late on the first day' 'it's really not a big deal if I wear sweats to drop them off' 'the kids are focused on school, they wont feel my anxiety/frustration/utter exhaustion and internalize it'. I smiled and I tried with every tired fiber of my being to make those hurried minutes happy.

They made it only 5 minutes late. Ivy was dragging me to her class. She couldn't wait to see her 'new friends'. She hardly had the patients to hug me good bye. I have their smiles printed in my memory, because in the rush I didn't take a single photo. (I almost cried when I realized.)

Jax was next and he wouldn't let me walk him in. I tried in vain to convince him. At home he loves me more than anyone in the world and still begs me to snuggle him to sleep at night. In public I am only acknowledged and he refuses to hold my hand. We were late too...a domino effect. Hurrying out of the car he hit his ankle on the door hard enough to bring tears to his eyes. He limped into the school under the weight of all his new supplies. I did cry then.

Sierra's turn came at a somewhat slower pace. Here on Fantasy (aka Bainbridge) Island they have a strange tradition of letting the freshmen come early on the first day while making the upperclassmen find their own way to school two hours later. So Sierra wasn't due to arrive until 10:30. I spent the next hour doing her hair. Section by section I wrapped waist length tresses around the curling iron. She has more hair than I've ever seen on a single head in my life. Ever. It's amazing. Not a split end anywhere.

My arms ached. My eyes were burning. I encouraged. I advised. I loved. I hoped that it would be enough to sustain them.

She strode onto campus with a mix of confidence and courage. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knows she is good. For an instant I wanted to trade places with my beautiful daughter. Then I thought better and said a small thank you that somehow I had managed to raise a daughter who has something that was crushed in me long before I turned 16.

I drove home on auto pilot. I tried to sleep but couldn't. 2:35 came with yellow bus and happy children. I survived the first day and so did they. Their joy was a balm to my raw nerves. We started our new nightly routine of having 'second dinner' at 8:00. Where a fruit smoothie is sipped by all at the table and everyone talks about their day. I made lunches again the night before (we all know that level of forethought and organization won't last). I kissed them and hugged them and snuggled them good night.

It was the first day.