Moving means lots of things.
It means boxes and sorting.
It means new routines.
It means a new school.
Daniel has gone to Charter schools since 4th grade. He's either been dropped off and picked up by me, or, like in Austin, we walked or rode bikes to school.
Here in East Texas though, he is back in a mainstream public school, and back on the school bus.
This week has been particularly chilly in the mornings (to put it mildly), so we've been bundling up in throw blankets as we stand at the end of the driveway and wait for that 7am school bus.
It amazes me how such a simple, daily routine thing can still seem so beautiful. In a few short years, he'll be driving himself to school, and I won't be standing there in the cold, waiting with him anymore, which makes these memories all the more precious.