We woke up early.  Well, I woke up early.  And we prayed together, Dan and I, which doesn’t happen nearly often enough and felt really good.  We prayed for them by name and for their teachers and for the other kids we know who started a new school yesterday (you know who you are) and for us, that we would remember to pray often and fervently for these people we’ve been entrusted with.  Mostly I was silently praying that they’d get on the bus nicely with no fuss.  That felt like the biggest hurdle.  And while I did hold out the promise of four new Star Wars Lego mini figures (minifigs if you’re in the know) from my friends at Amazon, they all bopped onto the bus as if they’d been doing it for years, which they haven’t.  Then I walked into the house and did the ugly cry for approximately 3.87 minutes before unloading the dishwasher and getting on with life.  Have to do that.  Cry.  And unload the dishwasher.
And I prayed at least 2,796 times that day and today and I’ll do it again tomorrow.  For friends, and kindness, and safety, and sealed ears against unclean talk of others and sealed lips against unclean talk of their own.  
Tess, of course did perfectly.   She gets picked up at noon and has no anxieties of any kind.  Whatsoever.  Girl will make nice with anybody and have them eating out of her hand and pushing her on the swings in short time.
We walked to the bus stop, which starting tomorrow will be approximately 16 steps from my front door, but yesterday and today was at the neighbors down the road a bit.  Got there very early.  Took no chances.  Cried when the bus pulled up.  Collected the scorn from my third grader that I was the only mother who cried and jumped up and down and perhaps could I tone it down a bit tomorrow?
Everyone reported sweet success.  The boys are making friends and learning the ropes and come home happy and tired and it won’t be like that everyday, but I needed it to be like that today at least.  So I’m fuzzy with thanks and praise to a faithful God and prayerful friends.  So thankful.  
I feel like we’ve slayed our Goliath.  This one at least.  For now at least.  With our little stones and a lot of prayer and a loving God we’ve slayed that Goliath.  Not to be a kill-joy, but there is another Goliath on the horizon.  Don’t know what it is yet, but there is always one lined up.  It’s how Satan works.  And God too.  So I’m hoping to not let my guard down, but continue in this space where I am dependent and needy and looking up because I think it’s where I’m supposed to be.  There.  Being real.

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