A Real Kindergartener

Ben had his first official day of Kindergarten today. After waking up to an alarm clock all by himself, he was all business about getting to school this morning. He wouldn't let me take any pictures at home for fear that it would slow us down... maybe tomorrow. Here are a few highlights and the video I took of him walking into his classroom for the first time. At the end of the video, catch what the para in his classroom says when she sees him... it's exactly what a new-Kindergarten parent wants to hear!

About Kindergarten:

B: Mom? When I'm at school all day, I'm going to miss a lot of my shows.
H: That's true.
B: Can you DVR some for me before we leave?

* As we pulled into the parking lot, Ben asked if I was going to "go in." When I said that I was, he sighed and said, "Well. Only today, OK? I can really handle it, Mom."

* After school, Ben announced that Kindergarten ROCKS! (We've been reading a book that my mom bought him called "Kindergarten Rocks" and evidently, it really does!)

* From 3:15 until 5:30 Ben told me stories about school. In "science class" they made a play dough rainbow. They learned a song called "No More Pie" in Music. And, Mom-did-I-know-what? They have cookers that make lunches right at school. And, Mom-did-I-know-what-else? He earned 65-hundred-4-and 60, 70 stars today. He earned a line up and walk in a line star, and a playground star, and a follow directions star, and, and, and... you get the idea.

Here's the video of him heading into school on a rainy day (you may want to take your favorite motion-sickness drug before watching).

Kindergarten (but only a visit)

This morning was our "meet and greet" with Ben's Kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Bohon. Lured by the promise of stopping for doughnuts before the visit, he got out of bed pretty easily and was ready to roll. When Mrs. Bohon came to meet us in the hall, he trotted off behind her, chit-chatting with her the whole way (SO not a surprise). I was about 50 feet behind because, clearly, he could handle it on his own and didn't want to be seen with his MOTHER. Ugh. But, I overheard him telling her that, "Kindergarten will be a blast. We're just going to have a ball." Ah, if she only knew.


Ben is very excited to have his own chair and a name tag. He's also very proud of his cubby for supplies and that they have a bathroom RIGHT IN THE CLASSROOM! Could life get any better? Wait until he's there on Wednesday and they have 2 snacks, lunch, and recess. Kindergarten rocks.

Almost 5

For the last few weeks, anytime someone asks Ben how old he is, he replies, "Almost 5. And, I'm going to Kindergarten." Ummm. Excuse me, but where did the last 5 years go?

I took Ben for his 5 year check up last week and visited with a new mommy and her 6 day old son. Was that really me "almost 5" years ago? I barely remember a time when Ben wasn't potty trained and getting his own snacks in the kitchen. On the other hand, was it really that long ago that we were just figuring out how to hold him so he'd fall asleep and just which funny face would make him laugh so his whole chubby little body shook?

When I taught, I never understood those weepy freakshow parents (ok, mostly MOMS) who tearfully dropped their child off for the first day of school. I think my comment was, "Dude. It's school. It's not like you're sending your child to war." I may have also said, "Never. Never ever will I be a 'cry mom'. I'm gonna be the mom with my foot on my kid's butt kicking him out of the car when he goes to school. I would NEVER cry. Whatever."

Ummmmmmmm.....yeah. As with so many other things, the kiss of death was saying, "I would never..". Because, guess what? I'm going to be that blubbering, ugly-crying, freakshow, train wreck of a mommy in two weeks when I take my boy to school. What I realize now is that it's not sadness that brings the tears. It's a realization that your baby is not a baby. There is nothing remotely baby left. It's intense pride in sending your little chick out of the nest and into the big, big world. It's all your hopes and wishes and dreams for the future.

Good grief. Will someone please hand me a Kleenex? Maybe a whole box?