The day started out on a happy note. Everyone was up early, beaming with excitement, more than ready for the first day of school. Chase was especially pumped to ride the bus for the first time, and reminded me over and over that he definitely wouldn't be tired enough for a nap after putting in his half-day. Tess hadn't grasped the fact that all three boys would soon be off on their own separate adventures, leaving her to invent a very new adventure of her own.
It didn't take long for her to realize that the morning somehow wasn't about her. Major depression over a request for her to step out of the picture so I could get some shots of the brand new Kindergartner all by himself.
The limp body act on the ground no longer sways me either, I'm happy to report. If it's comfortable down there, you go for it. I'm pretty sure you won't stay there for long.
Ah, there's that shot I was looking for. He's big and not nervous one bit, although he despises the pig name tag he's required to wear for the first week. "Pig name tags are for babies," he announces. "Kindergartners follow instructions," I announce right back.
A sure sign he's the third child: he soaks up photo shoots and thinks of a thousand poses all on his own with his new dino backpack as his only prop. He's so excited he can hardly stand it. He's not thinking about whether he'll find his way to his classroom all on his own in a brand new place, but I sure am. I'm thinking of that, while trying to keep my emotions in check as I take in every sweet expression he makes while he tells me what he thinks his day will hold.
Third, Fourth and Kindergarten boys. How in the world can three boys have such different looks and personalities and come from the same two parents? Never mind, I don't want to explain the intricacies of that phenomenon to any boy anytime soon. Carry on...
Before heading to the bus stop, Daddy pulls the big boys aside to make sure they know to look after their little brother at school. They get it. At least we hope they get it, instead of choosing to tackle each other in the hallways whenever they cross paths, which might be the more natural inclination. And then we know, when Chase later told us that Trey had his arm around Chase's backpack the minute they stepped off the bus until they reached the right Kindergarten classroom. Thanks, God. I needed that.
It's been a whole four days, and we're still walking over to the bus stop to hang out and wait with the school kids. Not because the boys need us, of course. They'll kick us out eventually, and then we'll have to just hang out in our own driveway and wave until we can no longer see the bus over the top of the hill. Every day for 180 days. Even in the snow. Yes, Tyler, I know you think that's crazy, and I'm ok with that.
I waited and waited for him to look back for reassurance, but he never did. I really should be thankful for his independence and confidence, shouldn't I? Great qualities to have. Yes they are...
Tess waves to the boys and confirms her feelings by telling her neighbor buddy that she can't ever ride the bus, and he's not ever going to either. Thank goodness he puts up with her nonsense.
Then she gets it. She's the only one left, and that just might not be a bad thing. I ask her what she wants to do (her pick the first day, my pick the rest...). Her first request is to paint her fingernails and toenails. I am pleased, and pleasantly surprised that it is a somewhat girly activity. So we head to the bathroom and find the pinkest pink polish we can find.
I feel like we might be onto something. An entire morning full of mom and daughter fun. Girl stuff. Tender moments. Memory making, just the two of us.
Her second request? Ahem. To the kitchen for a snack of pickles. At nine o'clock in the morning. Not exactly scrapbook worthy, but I can think of worse things I suppose. Pickles for my girlie it is. Ten of them, to be exact.
Her third request? She let out a little giggle and whispered....
"Let's wrestle."
