A Little Bit Happy, A Little Bit Excited

Just three years ago, RJ took the plunge: preschool. He was a little bit happy and excited and a whole lot nervous. So was I.

We didn't know much about our little Lutheran school back then. I didn't know that the director would know my son by name. I didn't know that there would be other parents who would listen to stories about boo-boos and offer sympathies and sugars in the halls. I didn't know that I would be ruffling the hair of at least three little boys every morning to say hello. I completely underestimated how quickly our little school would feel like home. 

 I pressed fast forward, and suddenly, we're here: 

Gigi didn't officially start school this week, but she thinks she did. I'll pretend that she did since I'll miss her first official day (sniffle). Being the second-born has its pitfalls. Then again, I know now to buy the big backpack and the insulated lunch bag instead of the little cute toddler sized backpack that crumples all the papers and the adorable tin lunch pail that couldn't keep a peanut butter sandwich from spoiling. 

She looks more nervous than she was. She loves her school. The bonus? Her teacher is Miss America (actually, her name is Merica, but Gigi thinks she's Miss America because she's so pretty.)

This guy wasn't nervous at all. He has come into his own this year, and it eases a mother's heart. 

Of course, it helps that they have each other. 

And there's no substitute for daddy's hand when you need just a little boost of confidence. Daddy gets to take Gigi for her first day too. I'm glad for that. Those two have a thing going on. 

Her daddy is her fiercest protector. So, when, halfway through the first week of school she decided to drink her mouthwash rather than swish it, daddy did what daddies do. He protected her. A call to poison control and a visit from the firemen, and all was deemed well with our little woman. Milk and stickers made it better. 

And she had a great story to tell at when she met her teacher. 

School work is serious business. He knows it's his job. 

School starts too soon. We still have lazing to do by the pool. 

And we took full advantage of the warm after-school afternoons. 

How is this baby really old enough to go to school?

We ended the week with show and tell. He could choose anything he wanted. He chose Bare Bear. He's secure in his manhood. He wouldn't let me take his picture, so I had to sneak one at breakfast. "Mom," he asked me, "Can you put Bare Bear in the spa? I want him to look nice." (Note: Yes, I did tell him the washer is a bear spa. He doesn't like Bare Bear being scared.)  When we tried to think of clues to help his class guess what was in his bag, I asked, "Well, how does Bare Bear feel?" "Happy!" RJ responded. "No, wait! He's excited!" 

As any parent can tell you, often the teddy bear is the key to the child's inner most feelings. I hope Bare Bear is, because I want to believe that RJ was happy and excited this week. New beginnings can be rough. I'm grateful for our little Lutheran school that sent Pastor to the parking lot to welcome each child and make this transition week just a little bit easier. I'm grateful for the hugs in the hallways from teachers and parents alike. I was a little bit nervous this week and a lot excited (which I'll tell you more about soon--I have hours, plural, to clean house and grocery shop alone!).  Mostly, however, I was happy and excited. Our little school makes it easy to say goodbye to summer, and for that, I am most grateful.