I’m not dead. I’m actually functioning fairly well. But there is plenty on my plate. I have 100 students this year. And I went ahead and fully enrolled my three kids in their school. This, while they are still at home, means that they all have multiple assignments to turn into other teachers over the course of the school year. Yay accountability!

X-Man is attending preschool. He is terrified of School Buses. He gleefully heads into the classroom with his teacher and classmates and hyperventilates when it’s time to go. Until he sees me and remembers that no one is shuttling him up on the yellow bus of horror and death. Or whatever it is he thinks occurs on those buses. Gotta wonder about after school specials these days.

Happily, I suppose, school has not put a crimp in X-Man’s sensory experiences. We were sitting on the sidelines on a soccer game when a little boy wandered up. He looked like he emptied his water bottle on his head. He asked X-Man is he could play with his toys. See X-Man’s mom had it together enough to actually bring toys to this one game. Write it down on a calendar, because it might be the last time.

Anyway, the wet little boy asked to play with X-Man. X-Man looked at him skeptically, very very skeptically. He said “you need a towel.” The boy responded “That’s because I am wet.” Boys….their conversations don’t tend to get too deep. The little boy began to play with X-Man. X-Man continued on, but still skeptical. A few minutes later, X-Man leaned in slowly and very carefully and took a gentle bite of the boy’s shirt. Just his shirt. He leaned back and muttered to himself “Still wet.” The other boy said sternly “Don’t do that again” and X-Man nodded soberly. And did not do it again.

While he was playing, X-Man happened to look up and excitedly began to shout “BABA! It’s BABA! Mom look BABA playing soccer.” And apparently, for the first time, put it together as to why we run all over two states every weekend. The following day he made a similar realization while at Baby’s game.

Once the connection was made, X-Man put his newly acquired vocabulary skill to good use. Bellowing “Go Baba!!! Kick da ball! Go fast! AW MAN!!!!!!” There is nothing the boy does without enthusiasm.

Including wearing clean underpants. I finished up with students this morning and walked out of the office and into a wall of wailing. Constructed by the most indignant X-Man. The father figure explained that he put clean underpants on X-Man while getting him dressed for the morning. This was not actually the first time that X-Man introduced to the concept of fresh underpants every morning. It was, however, the first time he strenuously objected.

The father figure and I have differing parenting approaches, which is why we are complementary in our efforts. X-Man grabbed my hand to lead me upstairs. I assumed that the father figure had misunderstood what X-Man was trying to say and that I would solve everything. Being the competent mother I am, having remembered to bring toys to a soccer game once or twice. Clearly I would resolve this issue.

My hopes diminished when he led me into the bathroom. They disappeared completely when he actually fished out the dirty underwear handed them to me and tearily begged me to put them on him.

I’m really grateful that I have five children. Because it took to child number four to experience gnawing on stranger’s shirts while wearing yesterday’s underpants. And who would want to miss out on that?