First Day Feelings
For the first day of school yesterday we woke up with plenty of time to morning. Ax had a solid breakfast of both chocolate chip pancakes and croissant with butter and blueberry jam, along with orange juice, so he was on a sugar cloud and raring to go.
I’d laid out his “outfit” the night before — his still-fitting, not too worn out, wicking soccer shorts and a t-shirt with a helicopter on it, and only one small, hardly noticeable tear at the bottom. After breakfast, he put these on without complaint, and picked up his backpack which I’d loaded with lunch and his pencil case of sundry supplies.
“They told us to bring an empty backpack the first day.”
“Your backpack is empty except for lunch and supplies.”
“We don’t need supplies they have those for us there.”
“Okay so take them out.”
He removed the offending pouch which I’d lovingly curated — the pencil sharpener with built-in shavings collector, the roll of tape, glue stick, and gel pens he favors — and zipped his backpack up again. There. That’s better.
We got in the car and drove to school.
“I bet there are going to be some kids today who are nervous.”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s such a good chance for you to be nice today, since you are so good at being nice and so good at not being nervous.”
And so we drove, we parked, we exited the car. He spied a friend far ahead of us, and ran off to join him. I followed, and stayed watching, witnessing, for longer than I’d planned or was necessary. Then I walked back to my car, got in, and drove away. I’m gonna keep going.