Oh my gracious, people. It was THAT day. The one where you wake up feeling like "today is the first day of the rest of your life," when you look at your 5 year old sleeping soundly in his little bed. Empty Nest, Phase 1. The first day of kindergarten.
Ethan's been in preschool since before he was 3 years old. So in some ways, this should have just been another in a series of his "first days of school" days. But it just felt different. Maybe its because I spent Sunday night getting myself all verklempt over folder after folder of baby pictures on my computer.
Yes, yes, & yes, my friends. And of course, no standard first-day-of-kindergarten photo shoot for Ethan; he went for a full-on dance-off and Vogue-ing spree on the front walk way...
Oh my. And then we drove to school. A 20 minute drive we only have to make a few more times because WE MOVE ON FRIDAY!! EEEEEP!!!
Last year's classes made these bird houses that live outside the schools' main doors. I've never actually seen birds in them, which I suppose makes sense given the hordes of screaming elementary students that run by them eleventy billion times a day. But still. Pretty birdy houses.
When we got into the class room, the teacher had set up a scavenger hunt for all the kids and parents to familiarize them with the different areas of the class room.
Then we had to go explore the community garden & make an observation about the sunflowers to share in the science nook of the class room.
Ethan's observation about the sunflowers: "They have blue in the middle of them!" which is true if you look really closely. My observations: "These sunflowers are crushed to the ground, dying a slow death. Excellent gardening. I could totally be the class mom gardener if this their benchmark of a successful garden."
After school there were cups of melting ice cream to be enjoyed. On the ride home, I asked Ethan what he did in school today & was given his typical cagey "lots of things," response, which is followed by refusal upon refusal to elaborate. Which makes the helicopterer in me twitchy, but the rational part of me thinks, "good for him! He owns it as his and he doens't have to tell me every last thing about his day." This year is going to be all about not neeeeeeeding to know what my special snowflake is doing every minute of every day. :: deep breaths ::
For dinner, Ethan said he wanted to go to "that sushi place we go to," for his special first-day-of-kindergarten dinner. I didn't even know what sushi was when I was 5. Way to be fancy, little man!!
Happy first day of kindergarten, sweet little man. You're such a big boy, but you'll always be my baby. I love you so much more than you'll ever know, Mommy.