baby lucas is (summer) school bound

my little man is off to pre-k summer school tomorrow.  this will be his first time in a classroom and...

i do not feel ready for it.

i will be able to sleep tonight because:

it's only for 4 hours.
it's only 3 days a week.
it's only for a month.
and, most importantly, it's with one of our most favorite people, miss mandy.

updates to follow...

here comes the sun

one of jacob's more straightforward spelling assignments





we're midway through the week before thanksgiving. the twins have minimum days all week this week because of parent-teacher conferences.



can i be honest? the thought of sitting down with the teachers and the boys is slightly terrifying to me. i feel disproportionately anxious about it. mostly, when i have to go to the school, i feel like a raw nerve. i feel exposed and emotional... easily hurt or angered. i feel like the teachers are always about to deliver bad news, the other parents are going to judge our family or say something insensitive, the other kids in the class are going to ask us a lot of questions about why the boys do the things that they do.



and it will hurt. all of it.



and i will react badly. and say something harsh. or, sometimes worse, i won't say anything. and it will get the best of me. and i won't enjoy spending time with my boys at their school. and marvel at their progress. enjoy their expanding independence. or mirror their enjoyment.



it seems like after all this time in the mainstream classrooms, i should feel a little more at ease, but i still feel like a visitor. like we're just pretending to belong there. and that feels like a huge weakness. and i have to overcome it because it is a luxury that i cannot afford.



so, in the spirit of thanksgiving, i will say that i am thankful that everything changes. that while all these past days i have been a coward, crying in my car after someone says something lame to me--- my boys have been going to their classes and smiling at their teachers, aides and classmates. and i can learn to smile, too. and risk the hurts. because everything changes. and tomorrow, there might be fewer hurts and the sting of those hurts might be less and less until it doesn't even register a flinch.

day 1 of 2nd grade

the first day of school brought:

too few photos.

no tears... just near-tears-grimaces. (from me)

the moment when isaac raised his hand during the first 20 minutes of class and said, "3.14159265." (also known as pi) ordinarily, this could have been thrilling, but the question had been, "what don't we do with scissors?"

a very sweet, new instructional aide for jacob. i might be in love with her. just a little.

a failed attempt at the parent (support group? mixer? networking seminar?) coffee talk. we gave it a solid 5 minutes before realizing that we could talk (and grimace) more freely elsewhere.

over 100 degree temperatures.

a celebratory trip to cral's jr. (or carl's jr., if you don't speak jacob-ese) for a "good milkshake" after a successful first day.

the highlight:

a second when jacob's aide turned to me and said, "we're going to have a great school year." and my whole heart believed her.

good night, grimace.

back to school wishes

jacob and isaac, only hours away from being second graders...

in spite of my denial. and the most earnest desire of my heart, for summer to never end. school starts tomorrow.

gulp.

tears. tightening of stomach. balled fists.

it is almost too much.

to battle (at least half-heartedly) the inevitable sorrow and stress that tomorrow will bring, i have a few wishes to make.

please let me not communicate above stated sorrow and stress to my very sensitive boys.

please let me remember to brush my hair before i leave the house.

please help me to remember every minimum day, parent-teacher conference, fundraiser night, birthday invitation, dress-up day, school spirit day, etc., etc.

please help my boys to make some good friends, or even, one good friend this year.

please give me the courage to speak to the other parents even when i: look terrible, don't feel like it, am beginning to look into homeschooling, or am afraid that they'll say something so thoughtless that i will have to turn their velour tracksuit into a juicy couture body bag.

please help me to tolerate velour tracksuits. apparently they are here to stay.

please no bullies. or parents enabling their bully children and emailing me. seriously. no, thanks.

please let everyone who interacts with my boys see, even if only for a moment, how wonderful they are. and give them the compassion to treat them that way.

please let my boys feel the strength and assurance that they are loved. beyond measure. all day. every day. forever. by me.

happy 2nd grade, isaac and jacob!!!