The Feared Day...

Today, Eddie and Chas started Kindergarten. Eddie was very excited through breakfast -- pancakes! Then, the dread began. He said his tummy hurt really bad and he was going to "frow up." I told him he'd be fine. Chas was a bit more brave as you can see. But he did admit, "Well, guys, I am a little bit scared."



I worked in the classroom -- which was very necessary because there's a lot for a poor teacher to do. And this was half the class! (They staggered the start day.) To my mind, this is the size a full class should be. (Three years ago, it was: I have a friend who reported that her daughter's kindergarten class was just 17 children. E and C's is currently at 26, but they are trying hard to get more into the full-time program ad drop the class size by one or two. Still too large for me.)



The day went well, including lunchtime margarita for Mommy. They had a great time -- Eddie is pretty sure he counted higher than anyone else in his class. Chas told me the reading time was "the opposite of fun," but then said he was teasing. Or not. He went back and forth so much I'm not sure what he really thought of it. A couple hours afterward -- they were bushed -- Eddie got a bad headache and sick stomach again. I'm sure it's stress, but I'm remaking the doctor appointment that I'd canceled today when I thought he was over the headaches. Ugh.



Oh, and we celebrated Flyer's and Flyer's (beloved stuffed koalas) birthday. We've decided we'll celebrate it on the first day of each school year.

Chas cuddled Flyer II while Eddie could barely make himself stand...

Mr. Confident and Mr. Not

Eddie puts on a brave face.

Today I cried.

OK, not so much cried as misted-up. Here's the situation. The boys start kindergarten on Monday. Eddie has been having headaches and tummy aches for a couple of weeks and I strongly suspect them to be brought on by the stress of the unknown KINDERGARTEN.

This means that once again, I have to be the grown up in this relationship. SO unfair. Anyway, I've been doing a jolly good job of keeping my own emotions about this whole abysmal state of affairs in check. Then, today, driving back from Seattle where we saw A. the allergist and more importantly B. visited the Children's Museum, I glanced in the rear view mirror. This is what I saw:

Or, more accurately, that is what I saw with my eyes. With my heart, this is what I saw:

In his expression, his eyes, his nose and of course, his position, I could see that tiny, fragile baby I met 5 1/2 years ago. I loved him and his brother then, but honestly, not as much as I do now.
Still, I miss those babies. I miss the grinning, drooling, crawling babies they became and the giggling, mischievious toddlers who replaced them. I miss the inquisitive, creative, physical preschoolers who came after that.

Don't get me wrong. I want them to grow up and have amazing experiences and all that good stuff that parents are supposed to want for their children. It's just that I wish they'd do it all just a little more slowly. Because the past 5 1/2 years have rushed by so quickly I may lose my breath.