The boys are back in school. I wanted to walk Jack to his classroom so told Oliver that Daddy would be bringing him today but that I'd pick him up. In typical Oliver fashion, he said, "that's OK. I didn't want you to bring me this day." Hah!
Anyway, my big first grader and I headed off, and as we approached school, he started to seem a bit nervous. It took me a bit by surprise because he loves school so much, but we just held hands tightly as we made our way to his room. His face was flushed, and he kept holding me close. I remembered how nervous I was on my first day of first grade- so nervous in fact that I threw up all over Mrs. Ford, a very cool third grade teacher who just couldn't have handled things better. I'd had pizza the night before, and the black olives were still recognizable on her long, flowy, maroon skirt. I think it goes without saying that I was beyond mortified, and puking in front of everyone (we were at the opening assembly) didn't calm my nerves.
So, I understood little Jack's anxiousness. He told me this morning that first grade wasn't as much about play: "you only get recesses, mom, but otherwise it's a lot more work than kindergarten." I said this was true but that he loved learning and there would still be plenty of time for play. Ultimately, he bravely scurried out to the playground, and I walked away feeling full of pride for how much courage it takes to grow up.