With the end of the school year approaching, books, projects, and yes pet beetles are coming home every day in my son's backpack. I have updated his school scrapbook with various things throughout the year, but the end of the school year brings many additions at once. Last night, I worked on adding these additions to the now overflowing scrapbook. I started flipping through, back to the beginning...
I looked at his pre-school art work. There is a difference between his 3 year old and 4 year old projects. I can tell by looking at them which year they were--although I did mark the backs too. I smiled as I remembered things about pre-school. I can do it, Mommy, he would say when he started using scissors. He'd proudly put his school drawing on the fridge, he would sometimes get upset when they were gone. I had to explain to him that the fridge can't possibly hold everything he does. That's why we send some to family, I told him. That's why mommy has a big scrap book, I thought. Our first trick-or-treat once he started school was full of much older kids yelling across the street, Hey, Gabriel, Hi Gabriel, or walking by us with hi-fives for Gabriel, and girls, older girls, smiling. I was flabbergasted.
Kindergarten seems much more grown up, making of books, the addition of actually writing his own name legibly, a full day of school. I remembered his first day of school, I remembered trying to find tie shoes for his small feet. I remember trying to explain to his teacher that he wouldn't tie his shoes by the deadline because he just got them. We started reading a lot more, I never colored and played with play doh so often. Mom, (no longer Mommy) I worked so hard today at school, I need a drink and the remote for cartoons. Mom, you just don't know how hard it is with all this work we do each day. There are so many different lessons. Together we picked out what projects would get mailed and to whom. He started understanding things only stayed on the fridge for a few weeks or months, depending. I remember when he graduated from Kindergarten, he was so proud as he held up his paper certificate.
The first day of 1st grade I cried, much to everyone's dismay, as I didn't cry for Kindergarten. I think it was the uniform, seeing your little baby in chino pants, polo shirt, a belt, and dress shoes with a backpack as big as him, well anyone with half a heart would cry too. He is now reading the 2nd Harry Potter book on his own, whizzing through his math flashcards, he gets upset on days he can't take speed tests at school, he argues logically--- much to my dismay. I am certain my mom prayed for this to happen. I find myself explaining things to him probably more than I should. Last week, he informed me he really was old enough to ride his bike around the block alone, and that, well, I'd have to just accept it. I know you don't want to, mom, but it's true, he said. He put his own speed tests on the fridge. I designated a spot for them. At the grocery store last week, a woman approached me and said, excuse me, you are Gabriel's mom, right? I said yes. She said he's just the most adorable sweetest kid.
You see the thing about parenthood is that it doesn't come with a syllabus. You get a generic form of what to expect from books, you get advice from friends, who have been there done that, you get a list of school supplies each Fall. You are left to figure the rest out on your own. I know I have made mistakes, I have lost my temper when I shouldn't have, I have sometimes not put my foot down because I was too tired for the crabbiness that would follow. But I know I have done a lot of things right too. I know because my son is happy, healthy, and smart.
...and now he's going to be in 2nd grade. When did that happen??
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