The first day. They're always a little hard. It means a change from the freedom of summer, but then again there is a certain kind of freedom that comes from the re-establishing of routine. Bethelle is now in third grade and attending a new school, so there was a real excitement to it.
I'm really proud of her for not only being willing to try the new place, but for her confidence to just jump on the bus and walk almost blindly into a new routine that she would have to figure out as she goes. She has a gift for unassuming bravery.
Kindergarten started several days later, but on the same day that Bethelle began school, Rigby had an appointment to meet his teacher. She talked to him in a gentle way, but was actually testing him. As they talked, I sat on the other side of the room, quietly filling out paperwork. Rigby was awesome. He was confident but respectful. He could do all of the skills that she asked him to do. When he read everything that she had near her for him to read, she got up and went to another room to find a harder book that would take him closer to his limit. When it was over, Rigby knew he had won. We walked to the car and he said, "My teacher is getting a really good student." I would pay a lot of money for him to have that kind of confidence.
On the actual first day, Rigby was pumped. He was ready.
When he got home we had this little conversation:
Me: So?! How was it?! Was in awesome?
Rigby: Well, I kinda had a bad day.
Me: You did? What happened?
Rigby: Well, the whole time we just played and learned stuff.
(frown)
Clearly I had set the wrong expectation somewhere. After talking with him later, he explained that the only "learning" that they did was about the rules and where the bathroom is and how to walk in a line and put the caps back on the markers. This was not quite what he was going to school for. I think he was looking for the mysteries of the universe to be unfolded and for ways to really shine. It'll come, my baby. You're the man.
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