Final days of summer vacation are upon us.

I’m ready.

RB is ready.

BB is ready.

Captain is ready.

Could we have handled more beach?

Always.

Could I have handled more sibling fighting without having a psychotic break? We’ll never know.

BB is very excited for 4th grade and RB is OVER THE MOON to start kindergarten.

My BABY is starting kindergarten! Cue wailing, sobbing me for one second until my children resume destroying each other and I forget how to feel nostalgic.

RB is almost 6, so really I lucked out with an extra year with her. She is still very munchable.

Socially she’s beyond ready to go. Writing her name is another story. BB is bound and determined to “prepare” her.

From the backseat of the car I hear BB say,

“What is five times two?”

GOOD GRIEF! The kid can barely tell the difference between a letter and a number. Never mind write her name and now we’re working on multiplication?

They’re happy and I’m loathe to get involved if they’re happy, but they can become unhappy very quickly, so it’s tempting to preempt it if possible. I pipe up,

“I think they work on basic addition and subtraction in kindergarten.”

BB groans,

“Yes, but she knows this, we’ve worked on it before.”

I can’t decide if RB having a 9-year-old teacher is helpful or not.

RB adds,

“I’m learning to read!”

BB says,

“That’s right! What words have I taught you?”

“Potion, broomstick, magic and teacup!”

All the most useful kindergarten sight words.

Meanwhile I’m getting ready to leave for Italy in a couple weeks, getting our ski equipment sorted out and also trying to nail down our long weekend in NYC for RB’s 6th birthday.

I ask RB,

“What would you like for your birthday dinner in NYC?”

“Cereal!!!”

“Cereal?”

“Or mac n cheese from Añejo or french fries.”

Añejo is a fabulous Mexican restaurant, with a delicious homemade queso mac n cheese, ON CAPE COD.

I google “best french fries in NYC.”

One result is described as:

“Classic fries done right—potato-forward and refined.”

Potato-forward is what I’m looking for! Refined is questionable. One dinner option reserved.

I will save the ski equipment journey for another post and hopefully I’ll talk to you again before I leave for Sardinia.

As I snuggled RB on the couch the other morning before soccer, I squished her very squishable legs and asked,

“Are these legs ready for soccer?”

“They’re ready to charge!”

“They’re ready to charge?!!”

“Like an angry hippo!”