How'd you like to hear about the first day of school? OK, so it's a rhetorical question. I obviously wouldn't have asked if I didn't intend to tell you and frankly if you didn't want to know - well you wouldn't be here now would you?Everything started innocently enough. He got right up, put on his clothes with no fight, ate all of his breakfast and grabbed the 462 pound backpack and headed for the door. On the way to the door he reminds me not to forget my camera, he wants some good shots (his words, not mine) of the day.
Who the hell is this kid? Freaking future creative director or something... see and it always, always goes back to the whole thing about nuts and trees.
So Mr. Creative Director steps outside and the facade begins to crumble.
He: It is still DARK out here!! We will not get any good shots, I don't care how special the new camera is.
He: It is humid Mamma. I hate that. It makes me feel gross.
He: I don't want any pictures, just forget it. I don't care.
Me: HOLD IT NOW!
He: Dissolves into hysteria complete with flailing arms, flopping body, dramatic sighs strategically placed for total emphasis of the abject misery he is currently in.
All this Tony-worthy drama because it is 6:30am on a Tuesday morning, in Florida, in August which translates to dark, nasty, humid, yuck. He IS NOT new here, this is SOP. The only time we love it here is those few gorgeous days of 10% or less humidity and a temp at 70 or under... the rest is, well, gross.
I try to divert, cajole, bribe, plead and am close to hysteria myself. The clock is ticking and the ONLY thing I am asking for today is ONE LOUSY HALFWAY DECENT PHOTO. Doesn't he understand? Doesn't he GET it? In less than an hour I will be ALONE, utterly and completely. The house won't have multiple TVs on with him in a room away from any of them building things and narrating with his constant soundtrack of effects. The animals will actually go lie down and sleep meaning I won't have an obstacle course to deal with. There will be no whining, no strange noises that when queried about their origin will be attributed to "nothing Mamma". The phone can ring and be answered without any interruption... except for the trembling of my weepy voice missing my loud, dirty, rebellious boy and all the hugs, kisses, and "Hey Mamma lookit this-es" that I got so used to over the long hard summer.
It is a happy day to be certain. He is in second grade and excited. He has several of his buddies in his class and he loves to be at that school, loves to learn and it is exactly where he should be. It is a good day for me too, I need to have some alone time to try and get a grip on my life and make plans and accomplish things.
He looks so tall and grown up today, full of purpose, hope, excitement. The baby has all but vanished from him, chubby cheeks gone. The legs that were once so fat that we were worried he would never be able to hold his own weight now long, straight and strong. Chubby little fists have grown into beautifully graceful, long fingered, little boy hands... and I am blessed that he still holds mine in his as we walk together to school.
