Wednesday, August 30, 2006


R & V started first grade today. We decided to split them up, and despite the vocal protestations that were a staple of our summer days ("You'll never tear us apart! We'll always be together! You can't do this!"), they ended up marching into their respective classrooms without a peep. If you knew them personally, if you knew, for example, that great swaths of the day can evaporate without them ever closing their mouths, then you would find this as remarkable as I do. And they are in school for a full day now, as opposed to coming home at lunchtime like they did last year (I glanced over at this year's crop of Kindergarteners, by the way, and found them very...short), which means that they are away from me far more than they ever have been. And though I knew this intellectually, I clearly hadn't dealt with it emotionally and, well, the whole thing fissured my stony little heart. Luckily, I have one more on the backburner, and she just happens to be—with the exception of her father—the world's best most excellent breakfast companion:

She just sits and eats and drinks and chats. No fidgeting, no whining, no can-we-go-let's-go-I-want-to-go. She makes observations about passers-by ("Oh, look! She's very sassy."), greets familiar faces, looks askance at the newbies who approach us. We fell immediately into our old routine. After breakfast, we fed the parking meter and continued down the street to the stationery store, where she always stocks up on stickers, bookmarks, and random plastic things (today it was a combination pencil sharpener and spinning fan). Then it's on to the bookstore, where we read some new things together but where—strangely—she mostly likes me to read books we already have at home. Finally, we window-shop our way back down the street, climb into the car, and head home so she can put her stickers to use. One day I'll have to tell her how much comfort these simple things afforded her rather brokenhearted Mom.


New and interesting posts/links over at About Bebot—A Collective Review. In one of them, I believe I am being chastised for my previous post. All I can say in my defense is..."if you've got breasts, stick it out and be freakin' proud of it!" Come on now. Someone would have had to tie my hands behind my back to keep me from saying something. And even then, I probably would have called the Nesting Ground Corporate Office and dictated a post to my staff of eager assistants, who would have loyally uploaded it on my behalf. And then I would have realized that there is no Nesting Ground Corporate Office and I would have leaned over my desk, clamped a pen between my teeth and pecked out something, somehow. Even if it looked like this: "slcoewidkg! nos;ktied! lol! s3k;rer;asl?"

'Cuz, well, that's just me.


Tracey said...

Welcome to full time school for 2/3 of the is a bittersweet fold indeed.

And I applaud the Nesting Ground Corporate office for taking a stand.

ver said...

Thank you for your comment, ma'am. The Nesting Ground Corporate Office will be sending you a gift basket filled with moleskine notebooks, fountain pens, and green tea. These items will, of course, sit unused in a corner of your office, taunting you as you leave for carpool, soccer practice, soccer games, back-to-school night, various and sundry fundraisers, etc. etc.