Friday was Ethan's preschool graduation. Or, as the powers that be at his school called it, "Moving Up" Day. And as promised, I made a total ass of myself with the weepies. Truly, I wouldn't have, I'm sure of it, if they hadn't played that Israel Kamakawiwoʻole mix up of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful World" as my baby came walking down the aisle with his friends. Seriously, people. Dr. Mark Greene of ER did his whole "great doctors don't die; they just fade away on the Hawaiian breeze" death scene to that song, and I danced with my father to the Louis Armstrong version of "What a Wonderful World" at my wedding, and the lyrics about all the potential & the passage of time & the beauty of the world through the eyes of the young, and OHMYGOD!!!! It's just a song RIFE with emotional baggage, so obviously at the first note, I was a big embarrassing mess. Sigh. They may as well have just thrown on a bit of Bridge Over Troubled Water, mixed that up with Puff the Magic Dragon & finished it off with Sunrise, Sunset; then I may have just passed right out due to sap-induced emotional overload. Seriously.
Ethan & his little friends were adorable; they walked in one by one, each carrying a rose they gave to their teachers at the end of the aisle before going up to sit on the stage. They sat through grown-up speeches thanking teachers, directors, administrators, etc., and aside from some twitching, dress-lifting, yawning, squirming and elbow-sparring, they were model little people for the entire ceremony.
After they stood up and sang a sweet little song about peaceful, happy people (not to be confused with shiny, happy people), complete with sign-language accompaniment (or reasonable attempts thereof), it was time for their diploma (or...certificates of move-uppance?) One at a time, each kid stood up by one of their teachers & the teacher read a little bit about the child---what they wanted to be when they grew up, what they'd wish for their family if they had one wish, etc. Most kids wanted to be astronauts or veterinarians or ballerinas when they grew up. Lofty, if standard. My kid? My kid said he wanted to be "The Next Beatle. I'm going to be the youngest Beatle." And his wish for his family? "That I could sing them a new Beatles song." Me, too, little man. Me, too.
After the ceremony we ate hotdogs, fruit and cupcakes, got our faces painted and stood in endless lines for the balloon artist. Or rather, I ate a hotdog, fruit & cupcakes while Ethan got his face painted and stood in an endless line for the balloon artist. My 32-lb 5 year old, preschool graduate seems to run on an endless supply of energy that is not derived from food consumption. I counted a small handful of challah & three strawberries going into his mouth during the entire picnic. I am going to observe his eating habits closely for the next week, write a book, call it "The Ethan Principle: Its Not a Diet, Its a Lifestyle" and make a million freaking dollars. I'm sure it will consist of constant motion & a diet of string cheese, fruity Cheerios, freeze-dried mangoes & buttered noodles w/ sprinkle cheese. Doesn't sound tasty to me, but you should see this kid's abs.
Then it was time to fuel up with that one-bite of challah....
...and have at it with the koosh balls until the parents were done eating and tired of saying, "Have you seen my kid?! Where's my kid?!"