Backpack full, new clothes on (which he picked out last night himself), facial expressions alternating between excited and close to tears...
Roman started second grade at his new school.
I was lucky enough to be the one to walk him down the side walk and to the door where his class was lined up. (Keith had orientation for transferring to the local university, and I had to request a day off so someone could be with the boys. I chose today...just for this reason.)
I keep thinking it will get easier, this whole time flying by and my boys getting taller and first days of school. But it doesn't. I watched him, looking anxious but trying to look cool and unconcerned, follow his teacher into the school. The door shut behind the row of other four foot high, new clothes clad children, and I instantly became teary-eyed.
Why am I crying? I've done this before, both new schools and new daycares. I should be used to this. And there's still 3rd grade, and 4th grade, and 5th grade, and then middle school, and high school...and no, don't think about it, or I'll start crying more.
I was shaken out of my reverie by Blaise, who had crumpled onto the sidewalk and was in his own pile of tears. I scooped him up. "Why are you crying, darling? Do you miss Roman?"
"N-n-n-ooo! I-I-I want to g-go to school!"
I decided a nice long walk was the best way for the two of us to cope with our tears.
All day, between emptying the garage and balancing the check book, I peered out of windows, or stood on the front porch, looking at the school, wondering how Roman was doing.
Then, minutes before the final bell rang (which by the way, we can't hear at all at our house, even when we are outside) I stood on the front porch, waiting for him. Watching him run down the sidewalk, I couldn't help but grin.
"Tell me about school."
"It was fine."
Yep, that's about as much as I could get out of him. Of course, he doesn't remember what they talked about or the names of any other students. Typical conversation for first day of school at a new school (this is the third time we've done this.)
But he's excited to go back tomorrow.
It's going to be a great school year.