I sent FOUR little children off to school today.
Ok, I take that back…I sent one large child to JR. HIGH (no eigth-graders were going to pick on that tall kid…I hope) and three medium-sized girls to elementary school. And I had to remind them for the bazillionth time that yes, they’re growing, but they’ll always be my babies whether they like it or not.
After a few days of “meet-the-teachers” and filling out paper work and loading up on school supplies, they headed out with their backpacks and sack lunches strapped on. Three of them had gigantic smiles stretched across their faces. Elle had just a medium-sized smile…a little worried about the big sixth grade.
Here’s tough-guy Jr. High:
Honestly, he was so excited. Not an ounce of nervousness in this usually kinda shy boy. Nope. He was so ready. Especially since he was armed with one of his very best friends:These two have been in every single class together from Kindergarten to sixth grade (their moms crack up at the height difference…especially since Max is six months younger). This year they only have one of their seven classes together. Sad times. But they don’t seem to mind.
Then on to the girls:
You see, those are real smiles on Grace and Claire. Elle’s is a really good fake one. But she did great despite the worry.
They came home with beet-red faces from the heat…and big smiles again ready for their first-day-of-school-cookies.
This time Elle’s smile was for real.
Lu and I joined some friends for lunch, and got a million odds and ends done here on the home front.
I wasn’t sad until right now. It just hit me. New schedules are always good, but I’m not quite ready for the summer freedom to end. I’m not ready to face reality of more doctors and evaluations and therapists…and worry. Everything has been on hold all summer and I’ve been eating it up.
I’m not ready for carpools and homework. And I just spent an hour filling out all the Jr. High forms that sign away that your child won’t use obscene language or do graffiti or make gang signs. In Jr. High? Really?? Man, I am so sheltered. And so is my boy. Do I really have to let him go?
Like it or not, I better brace myself.
Summer, we will miss you! Thanks for treating us so well.