First Day of School - 6th Grade Edition

First Day Blues
Orange shirt, orange backpack, orange water bottle - check.


Too many lazy days at home, with no schedule, meals whenever you want them, heck, you can even go pee when you need to at home. But, at school, schedules prevail, you eat when told and pee when told. But, the main thing at home that he loves is time with Mom. He's my buddy as you can tell if you've read this blog very long. We do every thing together. Perhaps too much. One day last year he asked me wht I do when he is at school. I told him the usual, landry, grocery shopping, etc. I asked him why he asked and he said he worries about me and that he should be here to help me. I told him that his job is to be a KID and go to school and learn and have fun and not to worry about Mom.

Words escape me when I try to tell you what a sweet boy this child is - his teachers are always amazed that a boy can be so polite and thoughtful. I know a lot of boys are polite and thoughtful. But, my boy is extaordinary in these matters. He's the last one out to door at school because he hleps the girls with their backpacks, picks up every bit of paper and crayons on the floor and hold the door open for the kids behind him. I know it is esy for an parent to make these comments and expect you to believe them. But, I need you to understand that this boy is special and unique.

I've often wondered if I should have put him in daycare or an after school program to partially break his parental bonds. But, even if that would have made the first few days of school go smoothly, what would that have done to his personality? Would he still be such a sweet wondrufl boy? Would he still hold my hand and call me his "Pretty Mama"? That isn't something I am willing to risk.


This is the year I have been dreading. Of course, I say that nearly every year. Big changes every year. But, luckily, he's still my boy.

The first day of school is never easy on him, or me, for that matter. ,

This year is 6th Grade. He'll be 12 on September 6th.

That's almost a teenager.

Oh My God.

A year from Junior High. Of corse, they don't really have Junior High anymore.

I am very involved in school, thousands of hours volunteering, plus years as a Substitute Teacher to boot, so I know all the kids. And, I do mean all the kids. So, this year at Open House, I see that almost all the boys and girls have sprung up a couple inches since last year. Some of the boys greeted me with "Hello, Miss Shara" and it was two or three octaves lower than last year.

Oh My God.

And the girls! Let's talk about the girls for a minute. They have, well, boobs. And they are cheerleaders wearing itty bitty short skirts. And they wear mascara and body glitter and cotton candy lipgloss and they sitthisclose to my baby boy. But, he still likes Hot Wheel Cars and Transformers and his pig Beanie Baby. But, he also has an inordinant interest in looking at Miley Cuyrus/Hannah Montanna. And he turns red when I mention his little friend, Susan. And, lately, he wants his skivies to color match his clothes.I think we are about to cross a line.

Oh My God.

The teachers warned me that halfway through 6th grade, some of the girls get stuck up and the boys go completely girl crazy. Not my kids! Not my babies! Surely NOT! I will say that I got a LOT more hugs from the boys last year. And they aren't exactly eye level with me yet, if you get my, oh so, subtle drift.

Oh My God.

He'll be driving in two years.

Graduating in six years.

Making me a Grandma someday. A GRANDMA, I said.

Oh My God.

I think I will pick him up after school and take him shopping for some new Hot Wheels.


Smile for Mom, please.



Well, that will have to do.