Last week the kids went back to school.  I am mourning summer's passing, but enjoying the excitement of the kids' new adventures.  My oldest started high school and my youngest started kindergarten, so they are both having new experiences.  Of course, back-to-school brings piles of work for me.  There are forms to fill out, homework needs to be checked, and mornings get frantic while I try to get everyone out and onto the right bus.  I thought I knew which bus was which, but my son thought otherwise.

During the summer, my soon-to-be-kindergartener got to go to "school bus orientation".  This was an hour at the elementary school where they taught the kids about being safe at the bus stop, told them what would happen when they arrived at school, and let them take a ride on a bus.  For my son, and the other kids who had been in daycare, riding the bus was no big deal.  They've been on a bunch of field trips and are quite familiar with the inside of a school bus.  So the first day of school arrives, and he's up the steps and into the bus without even a look back at me.  I was happy with how easy that was.  I should know better.

We only have half day kindergarten, so he rides another bus over to the day care center for the afternoon, and I pick him up there after work.  When I picked him up that day, the first thing my son says is "Mommy, did you know you put me on the wrong bus?"  My stomach immediately starts to flip as I run through the morning again.  I was sure I'd checked the bus number, and the other kids all seemed little.  The bus driver surely would have said something if I put a really small kid on the middle school bus, right? 

So I asked, "Didn't that bus take you to kindergarten?"

"Yes, I went to kindergarten, but there were BIG kids on the bus."

Ahhh.....  I'd found a flaw in their school bus orientation program.  They never told the kids that they'd be riding on the bus with the rest of the elementary school kids.  My son assumed that the bus would only have other kindergarteners, and was freaked out being on the bus with a bunch of kids who were taller than him.  It had to be the wrong bus.

The first thing out of his mouth the next morning was "Mommy, I hope you don't put me on the wrong bus today."

I tried to explain that it was the right bus, and the bigger kids were okay.  He shook his head. 

"What's wrong with the big kids?" I asked.

"They stared at me.  And some of them said HELLO."

Oh, the horror of it.  It was hard not to laugh. 

We stood on the bus stop, and my son seemed okay.  When the bus pulled up, he took one look at the kids behind the line of windows and ran the other way.  I caught him, and had to carry him onto the bus, put him in his seat, and strap him in with the seat belt.  At least he wasn't screaming.  The bus driver was chuckling as I got off the bus and he made some comment about my son's mastery of passive resistance.  I watched my son through the window as the bus pulled away.  He never even looked up.  I spend the day feeling guilty.

That was Friday, so, with a weekend to think about it, I expected my son to be more creative in his resistance Monday morning.  The bus pulled up, and he climbed right on, then smiled and waved as the bus left.  I was stunned.  He is so fickle.  He must get that from his father.

My daughter missed the bus the second day of school, but we were able to catch up with it at the next stop, so it wasn't a big deal.  It took her three days to figure out how to open her locker.  She has piles of homework already.  At least she isn't complaining about the big kids.  I imagine it won't be long before she is dating one of them.  I'm not sure I'm ready for that.

They say the bad stuff always comes in threes.  Friday night I was watching CNN's coverage of hurricane Ike and they broke in occasionally with the story about the train wreck in California.  That was two on the same night.  What would number three be?

Saturday morning CNN reported a plane crash in Russia.  Number three came.  The loss of life is awful, but at least we're off the hook for a bit.  I hope we are, anyway.  My thoughts are with the Texans who lost their homes and the Californians and Russians who lost loved ones.  I am reminded to be grateful for what I have. 

This evening I saw an update on the state of things in the Galveston area.  They were talking about the tremendous amount of resources being put into rescuing the dumb-asses who ignored the evacuation orders and are now trapped in flooded homes.  How many of these storms do we have to have before people start listening?  Why should my tax dollars be spent rescuing them now?  If they'd left, and it wasn't as bad as predicted, what's the worst that would have happened?  They would go home the next day and go on with their lives after a minor inconvenience.  Instead they stayed, and it wasn't as bad as predicted, but still pretty bad.  So now they are sitting on their roofs waiting for someone to fly by in a helicopter and pull them off.  Thousands and thousands of dollars are being spent to save their sorry asses.  That money could be much better spent feeding and sheltering the families who had the sense to get out.

I'd tell them to start swimming, but the flood waters are full of sewage, debris, snakes, rats and - gulp! - alligators.  I wouldn't wish snakes and alligators on anyone, even the dumb-asses.  So I guess they will have to be plucked off their roofs. 

Today I also heard the theoretical cause of the train wreck.  Apparently, the engineer was busy texting when he should have been watching for the signal that would have told him a freight train was coming the other way.  He gave his life for that lapse in judgment.  It's unfortunate he had to take 24 others with him.  Engineers everywhere, please put down your cell phones and drive the trains.

I didn't hear anything more about the plane crash.  Apparently what's happening in Russia isn't as important as what's happening in the U.S.  I'm sure there's some coverage on the BBC, but I'm not going to look for it.  I don't want to hear that the pilot was looking at porn on his iPhone or whatever.  I'll just assume that engine failure or bad weather was the cause of the crash.

Otherwise I'll know that stupidity also comes in threes.

In three days I'll be in Estes Park, Colorado, for the annual Yoga Journal conference.  I am bursting with excitement.  About ten years ago, I started telling myself that someday I was going to the Colorado conference.  This year, I stopped saying "someday" and said "now". 

I was supposed to go with a friend, but when the time came to register she decided she wasn't going.  I thought about waiting until next year, so I would have someone to go with, but then I realized anything could happen in the next twelve months.  I didn't want to miss this chance, so I am going by myself.  I will admit I'm a bit nervous about knowing no one, but I'm sure someone will talk to me.  I'm looking at it as an opportunity  to make a new friend or two.

This will be my first time in Colorado.  Seeing the Rocky Mountains is one of my "bucket list" items, so I'll get to check that off.  The first day I am taking a yoga and rock-climbing workshop.  Rock climbing is also on the list of things to do before I die, so I'll be making another check.  I've always wanted to rock climb on actual rock, since I've only ever climbed those walls with the screwed-in hand holds. 

Rock climbing feels like something I should be doing.  Whenever I see pictures of someone clinging to the side of a mountain in a magazine or catalog, in my mind I am right there with them.  My first time on the fake rock wall, I felt like I already knew what to do.  At the top, when you have to come back down by just sort of sliding down the rope, bouncing your feet off the wall, some people panic and freeze for awhile.  Not me.  Down was more fun than up, and I thought up was pretty fun.  Now, I am going to get to play on real rock.  The ten-day forecast promises sunshine.  I will actually be clinging to the side of the mountain, no longer having to imagine it.

I signed up for the conference on the first day of registration, because one of my other dreams is to take a class with Shiva Rea, and I'd heard her vinyasa classes fill up quickly.  She is on my schedule, as is John Friend, the founder of Anusara yoga.  I have a notebook with me so I can take notes right after the classes, to help me remember everything I learn from these master teachers.  I also have a class on handstands, because learning to do a handstand without using the wall is one of my yoga goals.

By this time next week, if all goes as planned - and it will - I will be on the plane heading for home and trying to think of some new goals for my yoga practice, and my life.  Now, I need to go put a couple pairs of yoga pants in my suitcase, and zip it up.  I am ready to go.  I just have to get through the next couple of days (one of which is my birthday!) without exploding.  Breathe, baby, breathe.

My camera is packed, and I promise pictures when I get back.