First Week Adjustments

It rained most of the day. There was a short break this morning that was just long enough for us to walk to the bus stop. Amy stayed inside and watched from the window. On today's bus ride Maggie again sat behind the bus driver (and probably always will this year). Yesterday I had told her that she could talk to whomever she sits next to and that she could ask for his/her name. This advice must have sunk in because today as soon as she sat down she was deep in conversation. As the bus driver closed the doors all I could see what the back of her head, her blue bow bobbing up and down as she chatted away. It turns out she was sitting next to Nadia, a girl also in her class.
Amy greeted Maggie home today with a big hug and a plaintive "I missed you, Maggie." Maggie had to run away to avoid hugs every 5 seconds from Amy. Then it became a chase-around-the house kind of game which became interrupted by lunch. Phew!!
In James' class, his teacher had them all fill out an "Olympic T-shirt" paper with their names, adjectives about themselves, etc. In the middle they were to fill in why they where a champion. James' Olympic medal declared him champion because he is "the quietest in the class." He must be saving up his talking energy until he gets home because before and after school it nearly explodes out of him.
Scot is excited to join either the chorus, band, or orchestra. I'm looking into the possibilities, but he would like to play either the trumpet, clarinet, or french horn. (That was the abbreviated list.) Scot also just finished reading the entire Chronicles of Narnia series. Yes, all seven books!
Paul is "officially walking," according to me. Scot has been trying to declare this for the last two weeks, but now since Paul is walking way more than crawling (which was my criteria) I finally let Scot make the announcement--which came as a loud declaration from the dining room.
Paul also thinks that he should be able to go for long, frequent walks whenever he wants now that he is pushed in the stroller each morning to the bus stop. He's just tall enough the reach the door handle and jiggle it. Then he looks around for someone to help him, and when he does, he beckons them with an outstretched hand or pointing index finger. I think he's feeling a bit lonely, but he has learned to follow Amy just about anywhere. This morning she said, "Come on, Paul," and he followed her right up the stairs and into her room.
Brian and I seem to be adjusting just fine. We have earlier mornings, but plenty of time for fitting in exercise, scriptures, breakfast, and piano practice (boys practicing, not us--and they don't know it yet, until they read this).