Today, you started the first grade.
It was a really big deal. You’ve been excited about it for months. In fact, you started talking about it long before you finished Kindergarten. Your excitement was contagious. All week you’ve been asking me, “Can you believe I’m in the first grade, Mom? Aren’t you excited?” to which I’ve answered, “SO EXCITED!” because I am.
You’ve had quite the summer, kiddo. You quit wetting the bed. You gave up the swim ring and went with just floaties. And then you got really brave and started holding your breathe and putting your head under water. Last night, while you took your bath, you laid all the way under water and held your breathe for 7 seconds. I was super proud…and so were you. You’re not quite swimming yet but, at the rate you’re headed, I know it’ll be any day.
It was also the summer that your dad lived in an apartment down the street. He and I didn’t really know what to expect so we just let you handle it the way you wanted to. I have to say, kiddo, you handled it brilliantly. I know you are only 5 (and a half) but you are one of my heroes. I hope you will always know that Dad and I had to figure some stuff out so we could be better at being your parents.
As wonderfully as you handled it, though, you are awful excited about us going to the beach this weekend, “as a family”, to grab the last little bit of summer. And you also enjoyed your dad’s voice singing “First Day of First Grade” to you this morning, as he jumped on your bed, and made the words up as he went along.
When we went to Back-to-School night to meet your new teacher, you figured out that you do, in fact, have a desk in first grade. It’s been on the list of important things all summer.
Another thing that’s been on the list is your Pack-It. It’s a lunch box, red with blue robots on it, “and it stays cold for 10 hours.” You were adamant about it and your dad and I knew it was really important. We didn’t get a second one for free, though. It was an additional $17.50 in Shipping and Handling and while you didn’t really understand what that meant, you did understand that they had the robot pattern you wanted, at Amazon, with free shipping. You were also excited about the school supplies we bought with the $17.50.
If you look back on first grade and wonder why you don’t have any memories of back- to- school shopping, it’s because we didn’t go. I didn’t take you to a store to buy anything but your shoes. (With laces, I might add and you’re finally okay with learning to tie them) We back to school shopped Our way.
From the computer.
You sat in my lap, went to the websites with me and picked everything out. You got the camouflage back pack you wanted, complete with your name, in the font style you chose. You were very helpful in selecting your clothes, as well. When your outfits arrived on the door step, you were very excited. I think it had more to do with getting a package, really. You don’t normally get that excited about clothes. It was an added bonus I didn’t think about when I ordered. The bonus prize that I did bet on, however, was you trying them on, in the comforts of our home, and not having to hear:
“Logan, hurry up. Seriously? What is taking so long? BRODIE! STOP! (Arm grab) you can NOT look under the doors of people’s dressing rooms. Logan, seriously honey, please hurry before I kill your brother. What’s the matter? Why don’t you like it? What does scratchesy mean? That’s not even a word. They look good. Okay, fine, take it off. BRODIE! COME HERE, PLEASE. Logan, I’m going to lose it. I need you to hurry, Son. Please, please, please.”
You tried everything on, strutted around the living room, Brodie following at your heels. No tears, no fighting, no little brother beating. It was the best back-to-school shopping trip ever. Promise. You didn’t miss anything at the store.
Last night, you and I broke the news to dad that you will get to ride the bus home a few days a week. He wasn’t very excited. In fact, he told you, “I don’t know if I’m okay with that, Son.” To which you told him, “Dad, it’ll be okay. I’m in the first grade.”
This morning, you got to leave the cafeteria earlier and go play on the playground until class started. You didn’t have to wait for a teacher to come and get you like last year. You didn’t need us to hold your hand and walk you around like last year either, but we did anyway. You lined up when the bell rang and waved goodbye. I was very proud.
And very excited.
Your dad was a little choked up, even if he denies it.
When you came home this afternoon, you told me that you wanted to be the “best kid ever” in the first grade.
I have a really, really strong feeling you’ll be exactly that.
Happy first day of first grade, kiddo.
P.S. Two days ago, you took safety scissors and cut your own hair. In the front. WAY TOO short. We made fun of you until you cried. Then, I took you to get it fixed at the salon. In front of the staff I asked, "And what lesson did we learn about cutting our own hair?" to which you replied, "Don't."