Back to school
They have been dreading this day. Dreading.
You can't blame them, really. They have had a fantastic summer. And they just don't want it to end.
We went last week to find their classrooms, meet their teachers, and deliver hundreds (plural) of dollars worth of school supplies. Whereas this same outing served to excite them last year, it may have only increased their dread this time around. Both were thankful to have at least one of their besties in their classes, but that was about it. Aden went all limp-bodied over the impending schedule and Trey became visibly upset at the advance warning that fourth grade comes equipped with an hour and a half of homework each night.
So you can't blame them. They fought like heck to push back bedtime last night, and whined their most pitiful whines when the time came.
Two hours later and after several water and bathroom and question and complaint interventions, all became quiet for a while.
I pause here to share critical background information. Aden sleepwalks, so we have a gate up at his door and a monitor in his room. End pause.
Juust as I was falling asleep, I hear loudly and clearly through my end of the monitor, "Mama, I've been trying to sleep but I just can't."
It was Aden, the boy who has never in his life struggled to find sleep, with his face pressed up against the monitor in his room calling for me. Thank goodness the hilarious heartwarmingness of this moment overrode the frustration of drawn-out bedtime.
Trey was all keyed up too, so out came the melatonin. Which did the trick.
There were no complaints this morning. Both boys seemed to have accepted their fate, and they each very willingly slipped into the outfits they had chosen, strapped on their nearly-empty backpacks, and even posed for a few nice pictures.
Overheard through the morning:
Trey: Mama, are you going to cry today?
Mama: Nah, I'm OK today.
Trey: Good. I bet you cry in two years when I go to middle school.
Mama: (choking up) Yeah, thanks for that.
Later, walking to the car
Aden: (out of nowhere, stops in mid-stride and turns toward me) I am NOT excited at all!
On the way to school
Mama: Do you all have that weird feeling in your stomach?
Aden: What feeling?
Mama: That feeling in the top of your stomach like something is crawling around in there. Like you get when something big is about to happen.
Trey: I feel something, but it might just be that I want some chicken nuggets.
Oh, for the love. They are something else. My heart went off to school with them, and yes indeedy I did so cry driving to work. The cruel and relentless march of time can do that to you.
First day of fourth and first grades. Go get 'em, boys.
You can't blame them, really. They have had a fantastic summer. And they just don't want it to end.
We went last week to find their classrooms, meet their teachers, and deliver hundreds (plural) of dollars worth of school supplies. Whereas this same outing served to excite them last year, it may have only increased their dread this time around. Both were thankful to have at least one of their besties in their classes, but that was about it. Aden went all limp-bodied over the impending schedule and Trey became visibly upset at the advance warning that fourth grade comes equipped with an hour and a half of homework each night.
So you can't blame them. They fought like heck to push back bedtime last night, and whined their most pitiful whines when the time came.
Two hours later and after several water and bathroom and question and complaint interventions, all became quiet for a while.
I pause here to share critical background information. Aden sleepwalks, so we have a gate up at his door and a monitor in his room. End pause.
Juust as I was falling asleep, I hear loudly and clearly through my end of the monitor, "Mama, I've been trying to sleep but I just can't."
It was Aden, the boy who has never in his life struggled to find sleep, with his face pressed up against the monitor in his room calling for me. Thank goodness the hilarious heartwarmingness of this moment overrode the frustration of drawn-out bedtime.
Trey was all keyed up too, so out came the melatonin. Which did the trick.
There were no complaints this morning. Both boys seemed to have accepted their fate, and they each very willingly slipped into the outfits they had chosen, strapped on their nearly-empty backpacks, and even posed for a few nice pictures.
Overheard through the morning:
Trey: Mama, are you going to cry today?
Mama: Nah, I'm OK today.
Trey: Good. I bet you cry in two years when I go to middle school.
Mama: (choking up) Yeah, thanks for that.
Later, walking to the car
Aden: (out of nowhere, stops in mid-stride and turns toward me) I am NOT excited at all!
On the way to school
Mama: Do you all have that weird feeling in your stomach?
Aden: What feeling?
Mama: That feeling in the top of your stomach like something is crawling around in there. Like you get when something big is about to happen.
Trey: I feel something, but it might just be that I want some chicken nuggets.
Oh, for the love. They are something else. My heart went off to school with them, and yes indeedy I did so cry driving to work. The cruel and relentless march of time can do that to you.
First day of fourth and first grades. Go get 'em, boys.
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