In one of my favorite pictures, he's sitting on the porch steps waiting with anticipation for the almost-empty bus that would pick him up right outside our door; this year if I want a picture of him waiting for the bus I'll have to do it at the bus stop.
On the last day of school in June, I took another picture of him sitting in the same spot on the porch. I think I just started a tradition. This is the 1st grade version:
It's also the only picture where he actually posed for me. When I asked him if I could take some in front of the school like we did last year, he said, "maybe after school." I respected his wishes. I mean, do I really need a picture of him standing in front of the school every year?Last year I picked out his outfit. This year, he wore what he wanted to wear: "My new Toy Story shirt and shorts," he told me weeks ago. Unfortunately, the weather didn't cooperate. The shorts were replaced by long pants and the shirt covered up by a jacket.
Because I'm not quite prepared to give up being part of his entourage on days like this, I drove him again, but unlike last year, once there he didn't pay us much attention. M and I hung out in the back with ~ also unlike last year ~ the few other nosy parents and heard a little bit of Mrs. Skinner's morning pep talk. The first thing out of her mouth was that she expected good work because they were first graders now.
And just like that he joined the masses. He's no longer a cute Kindergartner with all the concessions at his fingertips. Today, the real work begins: Daily walks to the bus stop to and fro, overcrowded public transportation, long days, high expectations.
Turns out the first day of first grade was also the first day of the rest of his life.
