Tuesday, September 6, 2016

First Day of School.  So many emotions flying around here - I can't believe it's already here, almost as much as I can't believe Bennett is in 4th grade and Harper in 1st.

*I think the above picture is so funny - as it is such a direct reflection of the Ninja and the Gnome. They selected their "first day of school signs", and it describes their personality completely.  H looked over all her options and selected, then changed her mind, then selected again - settling on this one only because she couldn't find one with glitter.  Bennett required something that looked like school, and opted for black and white as not to waste the color ink.

Harper is ready.  She has been so excited for school.  She selected her outfits for the week, with no tears and there has been lots of really positive self talk ("I can do this.  Mrs. Hurdt told me I could do first grade, so I will.  I'm a pro at school.").  We have read a lot of books about school, and talked about school, and even gone to school to check stuff out.  She is really ready for first grade.  This, of course, makes everything so much easier for Mama and Daddy, too.  Smiles and excitement are much easier navigate than all the tears and anxious nights.

Bennett is ready.  Tentatively.  He is excited to see his friends.  He selected his outfit (a Packer T under his button down), and has been listening to my positive talk. ("You are so ready for 4th grade.  You will be great - and rule the school!")  Bennett has read all summer, and is ready to start accumulating AR points.  He is also a bit anxious - will Harper be ok on the bus?  Will she cry during the day?  What will getting off the bus be like?  Will they be comfortable until 3:45pm?  Bennett is cautiously ready.

Ms. Prose is ready.  Year two is already better than year one.  New team, and not the newbie.  I'm excited to meet my third graders, and their families.  I'm happy to have a schedule again, and try some new things in class.  While I am ready, and have had countless first days of school - I still cry.  Last year, the tears were more for Harps - this year, it's Bennett.  Fourth grade is 'the year'.  It is the year I so closely connected with for so long.  There have been so many conversations that have started with "When my kid is in 4th grade..."  and now, my kid is.  It is the year of double digits, long division, and states and capitals.  It is the final year of elementary school, and my talkative, tentative boy continues to grow up.  There's no stopping it, and while I really don't want to, I wouldn't mind slowing it down.  Just a little.

So this morning, when he grabbed my hand and said, "You ready?" I squeezed is hand and said "Of course, Bennett Prose." and squeezed back and said, "Me, too, Mommy.  Me, too."

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