The start to the school year was especially exciting this Fall because Oliver is attending the public preschool half a day and riding the bus (he is excited about this, and so I am. The house is so very very quiet in the afternoon). Cambel and Ada leave bright and early every morning and then Oliver and I have the morning together before the bus picks him up before lunch. So far this schedule is working well for us, as it gives us some slow intentional time together, and then a structured afternoon for Oliver and some time to get things done for me. Everyone comes home around the same time in the afternoon and we attempt our best version of organized chaos as we coordinate snacks, homework, practicing math facts, dinner, and soccer practices.
Seeing the kids leave on their first day is always fun--it is hard to believe they are already this old. Ada is really into the side ponytail this year and Cambel has sometimes worn something other than athletic shorts--so that's a win. They both like their teachers and their school years seem to be off to a good start (even if some mornings I feel like getting them to the bus stop on time might take miraculous intervention. Ada especially takes on sloth like speed and lacks the helpful skill of talking and moving at the same time).
Oliver's first day was 2 weeks after Cambel and Ada's and he was chomping at the bit to get on his bus. He had his backpack on at 7:30--over 4 hours before his bus arrived. Sending him off that first day was surprisingly emotional for me. Seeing him step on the bus so confidently and wave goodbye was so sweet it made me cry. It's also just a passing of a season--he's not so little anymore (none of the kids are), and while I am enjoying these more grown up kid stages, there are always some bittersweet tears in the marking of these passages.
His note from his teacher after his first day. We aren't sure if we should be concerned about his role as the class comic.
First days wear you out...
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