1.0Mothering in the Middlehttps://www.motheringinthemiddle.comHappy Dance - Mothering in the Middlerich600338<blockquote class="wp-embedded-content" data-secret="v5TduZlFkf"><a href="https://www.motheringinthemiddle.com/happy-dance/">Happy Dance</a></blockquote><iframe sandbox="allow-scripts" security="restricted" src="https://www.motheringinthemiddle.com/happy-dance/embed/#?secret=v5TduZlFkf" width="600" height="338" title="“Happy Dance” — Mothering in the Middle" data-secret="v5TduZlFkf" frameborder="0" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" scrolling="no" class="wp-embedded-content"></iframe><script type="text/javascript"> /* <![CDATA[ */ /*! This file is auto-generated */ !function(d,l){"use strict";l.querySelector&&d.addEventListener&&"undefined"!=typeof URL&&(d.wp=d.wp||{},d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage||(d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage=function(e){var t=e.data;if((t||t.secret||t.message||t.value)&&!/[^a-zA-Z0-9]/.test(t.secret)){for(var s,r,n,a=l.querySelectorAll('iframe[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),o=l.querySelectorAll('blockquote[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),c=new RegExp("^https?:$","i"),i=0;i<o.length;i++)o[i].style.display="none";for(i=0;i<a.length;i++)s=a[i],e.source===s.contentWindow&&(s.removeAttribute("style"),"height"===t.message?(1e3<(r=parseInt(t.value,10))?r=1e3:~~r<200&&(r=200),s.height=r):"link"===t.message&&(r=new URL(s.getAttribute("src")),n=new URL(t.value),c.test(n.protocol))&&n.host===r.host&&l.activeElement===s&&(d.top.location.href=t.value))}},d.addEventListener("message",d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage,!1),l.addEventListener("DOMContentLoaded",function(){for(var e,t,s=l.querySelectorAll("iframe.wp-embedded-content"),r=0;r<s.length;r++)(t=(e=s[r]).getAttribute("data-secret"))||(t=Math.random().toString(36).substring(2,12),e.src+="#?secret="+t,e.setAttribute("data-secret",t)),e.contentWindow.postMessage({message:"ready",secret:t},"*")},!1)))}(window,document); /* ]]> */ </script> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=60Koe5FSE9M * The big yellow bus will soon rumble once more down our street, signaling the end of summer and the beginning of another chapter in my life. My youngest is now in kindergarten. Big brother and little sister will stand together at the bus stop, he surreptitiously looking out for her, his fear for her safety and feelings only slightly stronger than his fear of being caught caring. I think of all the emotions I should be feeling, emotions that any normal mother would be feeling at this momentous occasion in her children’s life: a deep sense of pride; hope for the future; nostalgia for baby days long gone; and maybe even a little fear about what lies in store for these innocent young people. I should be crying. So why, then, will I be doing The Happy Dance in my driveway as the bus is pulling away?