Here are two of the four little darlings on their first day of school today.
Alex started fifth grade, and Kendra is in fourth.
Now, for anyone who doesn’t know (I’m sure there are many of you), I used to teach 5th grade. I LOVED it. I loved everything about my students, and if I ever went back to teaching, fifth is the grade I’d choose first. HOWEVER, despite my affection for them, those were some obnoxious kids. Loud; silly; full of potty humor, sound effects and bodily noises. The year I had Alex was the last year I taught school, and I couldn’t imagine my precious little baby boy ever reaching that 5th-grade age. (Or the mentality.) They seemed so old. So (im)mature. So far ahead of my little bundle of joy.
Fast-forward ten years. Yup, he’s TOTALLY a 5th grader. (How did that happen? How did I LET that happen?)
Having two upper-grade [elementary school] children isn’t even the worst part. What I want to know is, when did I get old? How is it possible for me to be the mother of two upper-grade [elementary school] children?
I’m happy to report that the first day was a smashing success. Kendra is thrilled with her teacher, Mrs. Nance, even though she didn’t get the teacher Alex had last year. Alex is elated that he gets to have one of the two male teachers in the school, Mr. Rolley, who is a mad computer genius and seems to have embraced his inner 10-year-old boy with unbridled joy and ferocity.
It’s going to be a great year, despite the fact that my kids are getting too old, too fast. (To say nothing of myself.)