The first day of school has come and gone. All in all a success by my standards, where success equals any event that does not mean me leaving church, work, or other important civic duty to come and retrieve my sweaty, howling child. The days leading up to our “first day” have been spent trying in vain to get him to wake up earlier in the morning. I have a child intent upon growing up fast. He’s channeling a teenager now, preferring to stay in his room until, I’m embarrassed to say, 10:30 in the morning. This makes me feel like an awful mother, he’s got to be starving in there. And, what is so boring about my company that he would rather stay cooped up in his room all that time? I have been luring him out, earlier and earlier the last week or so, trying to get him excited about the big world outside his bedroom.
This morning we set off to school at the insane hour of 8 am. The look on his face when we woke him was one of shock and disgust. He perked up eventually and we got these much anticipated first day photos:
We arrived at school, Brooks with a smile on his face. I began preparing my classroom for the day while he played in my room. Then, drop off time. The moment I’d been dreading for…oh, every day since school let out at the beginning of summer, came. And went without me even realizing it. I’d asked one of the other teachers to help me by enticing him into his classroom without me. In a rare moment where he wasn’t trying to crawl under my skin, she must have scooped him up and taken him. I heard screams and teeth gnashing for maybe 3 minutes but then, lured by the toys, books, other children and circus-like atmosphere of a preschool, he let loose and enjoyed himself. I snuck a peek at lunch, he sat contended, surrounded by little friends eating his dino shaped sandwich. At the end of the day he came running up to me, hugged my leg and said, “Hey Mama!”. I mean! Last I knew, I was burping him after a 2 am feeding and now he’s running around greeting me after his first day of school. He did blow his teacher a kiss without my prompting, which is his rather selective seal of approval. When I asked him about school on the way home I, obviously, didn’t get much. He did say, “FUN”, “BALL” (he played in the ballpit), “FINICH” (he’d like me to hand him the rest of his ‘sandwich’, thank you very much), then pointed to the radio and said “LADIES”, informing me that the conversation was over and he would like to listen to All the Single Ladies for the 99 millionth time.
We got home, he started climbing the stairs and said, “NIGHT NIGHT Mama!”. I’m not lying. Took him up, he stayed in his room until 5 when his father came home bearing congratulation cupcakes. This brought him out, semi-willingly. For a brief moment he graced us with his presence, then pointed to the stairs and said “BATH”. Bath leads to bed, which is apparently all he wanted. So, he’s up there now, sleeping away his exhausting day. I’m kicked up in front of the television thankful that my day was a success as well, where success equals great batch of students, no time outs and not having to change a single diaper!
Another good thing about back to school? Adorable back to school clothes.