“James, is your Brother on that Bus!?”
Last week I took Matthew to school for his first day of the staggered entry for kindergarden. Thankfully we were able to snap a few decent pictures before actually arriving at school, because once we were there and I was camera ready, he was so busy digging in his nose that he didn’t have time to pose for me without making us late. (I swear I don’t make this stuff up. When he’s older I’m sure he’ll appreciate that his mom documented all of these special moments.) I guess the advantage of having an older brother to pave the way is that Matthew walked in with swagger and confidence. He knew his way around and was marginally cocky. This is a far cry from the little boy who wouldn’t let go of my leg or take his face out from under my skirt when we went to preschool. There’s no doubt that he’s ready. And I kid you not, just after I typed that sentence he started walking around the kitchen with a brown paper bag on his head.
Today, I sent him off on the bus for his first full day of kindergarden. For whatever reason, it’s when I see that giant yellow thing on wheels that it all sets in for me. It triggered a little mist in my eyes for about 30 seconds. But it is really hard to be sad when Matthew’s little face is nothing but a big cheesy grin from ear to ear. He got situated and gave me a wave from the window. I like to do my tearing up in private, so with all the other parents and paparazzi at the bus stop, I didn’t allow myself the moment of reflection where you realize that your baby is now a boy heading out into the big bad world. I continued on with my usual morning dog walk, dishes, gym, work, a hair appointment and bam…it all slipped away so quickly, this elusive “free time” I would have. I didn’t even get the luxury of a leisurely child-free stroll through Target. (Maybe tomorrow….)
As the bus pulled up this afternoon, James and several older kids hopped off first. Strange, I thought, as the kindergardeners are in the front rows.
“James, is your brother on the bus?” I inquired, only the slightest bit of panic beginning to build.
He seriously had to think about it before he said, “yeah, I think so.”
As I mentally formulated my plan for calling the school and asking what the hell happened to the child that had a life sized “BUS 102″ on his backpack, he appeared. First words out of his mouth were, “THE BUS IS AWESOME!!” That pretty much sums up the amount of information I was able to gather about his day, other than the fact that he saw Mr. Starr in the hallway and played with Alexa on the playground. Ok, well that’s a start.
And so it begins. A new school year. Two brothers in elementary school together, eating their after-school snacks and comparing which playgrounds they played on and who they saw during the school day. (This happened before they started yelling at each other because they both wanted to tell me things at the same time). Happy back-to-school, everyone!
