It's a Beautiful Day... for little birdies to fly away

The UrbanToddler started school yesterday.

Throughout my life and especially the past year I have envisioned this day. I am always casted as June Cleaver in my dreams. But leave it to life not to resemble the movies….

My father completely took me off guard when he was visiting us last week, and announced that he wants to take my girl school shopping. It has been a busy summer. A busy year. I had no idea August was already here and almost gone. I told my dad that I was planning on taking her shopping in the next couple of days (with the slight irritation of someone who is reminded of their responsibilities).

But if you know my father, then you would know that once he gets an idea in his head, there is no setting him off course. Even when my mother tried to gently veer him off by telling him, “Dear, this is a special outing for kids and their moms and dads” staring him in the eyes for emphasis. But he replied “There is no time left. [The UrbanToddler] and I are going today, her mommy and daddy can come with us”. And that was that.

He is a smart man. He knew that in another day, all the best lunch boxes and sippy cups would be picked over and that would have been a real shame.

We spent an entire afternoon looking for the perfect lunch box, BPA-free containers and the cutest Thermos. And although, I quietly took out the Barbies, backpacks and toys my father was piling fast into the buggy, we still walked out with bags of supplies including new pink dresses and a stepping stool for the bathroom.

And then the day before yesterday, I spent the morning thinking about what I would pack my girl for her first school lunch. She is not into much lately, and the things she does like are not really considered neat figure food… But after consultation with Billy’s mommy at the park, who judging by the snacks she packs Billy for play time, is particularly savvy on the subject, I decided that packing her favorite lunch of Hummus will do just fine.

On Thursday morning, we all woke up early and somewhat excited. Mr. Urban kept watch of the time with a countdown of the time left for leaving the house (allotting 15 minutes for the 5 minute drive to school), an especially soothing activity when you are short on time.

It took me far too long to pack the lunch and get myself ready… and with only minutes left to depart, the two of us hurriedly pulled a pink dress over our girl's head and pulled her reluctant arms through the sleeves. As we ran down the stairs I brushed her hair and talked her into letting me put a barrette in her hair…

By the time we arrived at the school lot, my heart was beating through my shirt… I think so was Mr.Urban’s as he proudly picked up his girl and marched her to her class, gently talking to her about what seemed quite imoprtant… For her part, she looked focused and excited… this tiny girl was certainly ready to pursue her dreams...

It was a beautiful morning. In no way as orderly as June Cleaver’s family's would have been, but nevertheless filled with pride and love and hope for a wonderful adventure for our little UrbanToddler…And here's hoping that you:

See the world in green and blue
See China right in front of you
See the canyons broken by cloud
See the tuna fleets clearing the sea out
See the Bedouin fires at night
See the oil fields at first light
And see the bird with a leaf in her mouth
After the flood all the colors came out

It's a beautiful day
Don't let it get away

FORTY THREE YEARS, SEVEN MONTHS AND FORTY DAYS

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The other morning at breakfast, my four year old looked, yet again somberly, at the breakfast before her. Despite having enthusiastically selected a hodgepodge of liberally salted hard boiled egg whites on the side of toasted hamburger buns, strawberries and vanilla yogurt and a cup of milk, she still could not bring herself to enjoy her breakfast. Her face was wrinkled, as was mine with exasperation from yet another failed attempt at assembling a palatable breakfast for my picky eater. This one, she is quite the philosopher. And before I could ask her why she wasn't eating, she said: "Two Things!" Holding up two tiny fingers. "The smells of these foods I picked, don't go with each other! And I wish Donald Trump would magically become Hillary Clinton, and the word (world) would be GREAT again". Despite our best efforts to protect our children from the anxiety of these times, they are alert and picking up on the mood (and the lingo) in the wor

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