first day of school

Maddy - Up, she is in middle school - 7th grade. YIKES!

I'm the mother of a middle schooler.

That officially makes me old.

She's got the goofy expression because she is making fun of me, making her show what grade she is in..... Yes, she is almost a teenager as well. Does it show? (Does anyone know how to insert an eye-rolling icon?)

Mia - 4th grade.

Ah, fourth grade. Believe it or not, I remember it well. One of my favorite years with one of the best teachers. We had to make up a cereal, make a box for it and do a commercial. Not sure what I learned from that but it sure was fun!

Cade - 1st grade.

So it is the second time around for first grade - our choice. He is a bit of a peanut still and just didn't feel like he was ready to make the move. Hoping this will be "the best decision we ever made". I have good memories of first grade, too (growing up in Canada, it was "grade one".... I still tend to say that... I always have to check myself and say 1st, 4th... etc.). I cried because I had to do a vision test and my teacher promised to take me to "Pete's" for a milkshake. She never followed through. But.... about 25 years later she gave me a card, in the shape of a milkshake and apologized (she and her husband are good friends with my dad).

Lucy - oh, oh...

Ah, that's better!

Lucy - Kindergarten.

Oh my goodness, my baby is in school.

That is just plain crazy.

Breakdown of the day.....

First I should say that yesterday I spent prepping Lucy for the fact that she could not wear her usual wardrobe to school, which daily consists of sundresses and flip-flops. Neither are permissible at school (so I have had to so some altering of her clothing - making sleeves on dresses, turning dresses into skirts and the like). I also wanted, just for one day - good first impression type stuff - for her to wear clothes that matched. She generally has a style all her own....

So we chose clothing. I succeeded in getting her to agree to wear the above pictured outfit, with the promise of making her a little hair clip to match. I kept my word (made it out of more scraps of her left-over bedding and another scrap of fabric.... should have taken a close-up of it... it's kinda cute) and she kept hers.

HOWEVER, I neglected to remind her of her limited footwear options. That is, no flip flops. Big mistake. Ensuing drama.

Plus it was raining and darn cold today. She refused to wear tights and her new shoes that our friends hauled up here for us.

Finally I said forget the cold (actually, in my head I said something other than the word "forget"), just wear your sandals.

Problem solved.

Then my poor, sweet Mia. She ended up in tears.

I asked her what was wrong.

She said she was sad because Lucy was no longer a baby and she was starting school. And she was worried for Lucy - that she would be okay.

So sweet.... I wonder who she has been listening too?

Sounds an awful lot like mommy's tears.

Of course, as sweet as this is, I think perhaps she was slightly (or very much more than slightly) nervous too.

Cade, whom we were most concerned about was a rock-star! He loves his classroom, he loved school, he loves his teacher and he said he made lots friends already (although he can't seem to remember any of their names).

Maddy, with little admission, was slightly nervous too, but was quite fabulous. I felt horrible because I kinda ditched her with needing to get the others going to their classes. Fortunately she knows one girl here already - BLESSING - and she and her mom took Maddy under their wings, so to speak. Maddy's biggest problem right now is trying to get her locker open. Darn thing.

Well, we walked to school in the rain (I forgot to put that picture up here.... I will yet), got there, all was good.

Lucy had quite a few tears but eventually allowed us to leave.

After seven and a half long hours (two meetings and half an hour to myself) we picked up four happy children!!!

Thank you God!

Everyone did great.

Everyone was happy (extremely tired, but happy).

And now we can stroke "start school" off the list.