First Day
They bathed in the brand-new tub and were tucked into their sleeping bags on the floor at a reasonable hour to be ready for the first day of school. The house had towers of boxes along every wall and we were all hopeful of a new school, new friends, and a somewhat-new life. Their hair was brushed and pony-tailed with bows. Their lunches included individually wrapped snacks from Costco. Their backpacks and sneakers were new and squeaky. And we were ready for a lovely stroll to the school by 7:56 am.
Last Day
They had a field trip to the spray park last week and it rained, so no bath necessary. They said they brushed their hair. There's no evidence to that fact, but I'm not going to fight it today. Eliza's backpack broke a month ago, but I certainly wasn't going to replace it that close to the end of the year. Creating their lunches with no bread, no snacks, no yogurts, and no juice boxes in the house was a trick. I am hopeful that their classes will have some sort of party that includes sustenance of some sort. We are finally ready to go after we hear the "first bell" ring in the distance at 8:25 am. Mario Andretti drives our minivan the 2 km to the school. And an exhausted mother drops off her children and sorrows that a whole year has slipped by again.
2 comments:
You forgot to mention that at the end of the year, they don't look like the babies you sent out into the world, but rather grown ups who are almost unrecognizable from 9 months ago, world weary and wise. (sigh)
Your girls are gorgeous, by the way.
I'm into the "last day" mode you describe about two weeks into the school year. Oh well. Always pleased that they're attending school at all. I like to compare our family to the homeless and then I feel o.k.
Post a Comment