They’re always a milestone.
Today was Kari, aka Lydia’s first day of school. (I haven’t asked her what name she’s going by at school. I think probably Lydia.)
She’s beginning Grade 9 and that’s when the other kids also headed off to the big public high school not that far from here.
(John demanded to go. He led the way.)
Anyway, this is the picture that was snapped at 6 something in the morning.
She said she liked it, had fun, everything went great. Whee. Good news.
Here are the rest of the First Day of School Photos.
It’s kind of a needle in a haystack finding the old ones, but we’ve been doing this since John and Dan were in homeschool.
The kids decide where to have their picture taken.
Last year, Lydia chose to pose with her little hands folded on her lap, very formally, sitting on some old toilets Jay had in front of the garage for disposal.
That was charming.
Nah, it was okay. Why have used toilets sit around your yard if you can’t use them for photo props?
This is James, rude, grumpy James, heading into senior year.
Seventeen year olds are notoriously irritable.
Or maybe I’m just one of those people who is super irritating to seventeen year olds since forever?
Could be. I don’t deny it.
Anyway, last year of high school for James.
Girls, my family is growing up.
My own grandma announced that to me about five years ago when my baby Julia was five or so, and I no longer had any babies or any rowdy, foolish preschoolers.
“Valarie, your family is growing up.”
It about knocked me over.
What?
I no longer live in a rambunctious household. It’s very, very quiet here most of the time. Even p.j. is downright civilized anymore.
Today we had lunch at Applebee’s to celebrate the First Day of School, and she told us about a wedding she’d been to a couple weeks ago, including how beautiful the bride was, and how she herself danced the Chicken Dance, and what color shoes she wore and that the tables had tablecloths.
A year and a half ago when she was an insane little monkey trying to run the house, we knew time was on our side. Well, time has prevailed, and she’s a mostly reasonable citizen.
Anyway, a long time ago I wrote a long thing about the First Day of School, and I’m including it here because it takes me back to the year 2007.
So much has changed since then–seven years, I suppose so!
Where have seven years taken this family?
Forward in ways that are both good and not as good.
Evolving forward to a different place that I don’t mind. It’s all evolving anyway, even when we feel that it’s not, it probably is.
“Today was a perfect day.
Last night, even after a superb Labor Day weekend of eating and
gardening and playing at my parents’ farm, I went to bed feeling anxious and
down.
years old…she’s tiny, with big blue eyes and white hair worn straight, cut to
frame her pretty face. The kids and I went to visit her at the home, and she
was angry.
her clothes. (I could steal all her money—my name is on her accounts and I
pay all her bills, but she doesn’t even think of that.)
ruined her sweater, were wearing her clothes.
The sweater looked perfect to me, and no child has ever touched it that
I know of, and the kids were obviously not wearing her clothes. She
threw the sweater back at me in disgust.
“I paid $120 for this sweater and now it isn’t worth 10 cents!”
sober faces, wide eyes. I tried to
reason with her, but it was of no use, and she called me a liar.
laundry. She is pretty lucid in the
daytime they tell me, but in the evening, angry.
put away the clothes and went out to the patio.
We sat in the sun and the kids ran around the fountains and flowers,
over the footbridge. I don’t like them
to tear around at the home. I’m afraid they’ll crash into some fragile person
and cause an injury, but there was nobody else around this morning, so they
were free to fly all around the patio and lawn, laughter shrieking, arms
flying.
beautiful morning. I watched the
everyday traffic beyond the hedge, on the other side of the willows, and how
industrious and far away the world seemed, on the other side of the duck
pond.
tirade of the night before, said she was sorry.
I said there was no need to apologize. I only felt bad she thought lousy
things of me. She insisted she
doesn’t. She and I ate Skittles
together, a few Mike and Ike’s, and when she kissed me, she smelled like
limes.
was abandoned. Flowers blooming,
fountain spraying, all perfectly quiet. In the whole huge park, we were the
only people.
and because I couldn’t decide what I wanted, she made mine half with mustard,
half with cheese, pb+j for the little kids.
in the pond and meandered back to the car.
Tim is 5 and said he was tired, so I pulled his arms from the front and
James and Julia pushed from the back as we went up the hill to the parking lot
and he laughed.
crimper for a friend, and we found one!
Woo Hoo, and hail to the 90s!
promised the kids a trip through the toy section and we were there a long while
as they changed their minds over and over, putting things back, negotiating. I
had nothing else to do, so I let them.
Eventually they all found some crazy trinket—James and Maria lucked onto
some insane troll dolls—and we could call it good and go. I had a couple beautiful winter sweaters for
Kari in my arm.
sale on the way home. There was a
pretend, battery operated 4 wheeler there and Tim wanted it in the worst way,
but it cost an outrageous $60, and I hate 4 wheelers.
gowns that didn’t even cost that much new, $3 for old paperback books!
got on this thing and hit the gas and it leaped ahead, scared the wits out of
him. They were still laughing about it hours later. He was moaning about how he neeeeds a 4
wheeler. Keep dreamin’ fool. Not in my lifetime.
for me, my second oldest son. Nobody
lights up a day quite like he does.
was there so I could drive him to pick up his car from the repair shop, so we
left off the other kids and went for a ride.
I’ll take 20 minutes of conversation with Dan any time.
and he was cooking supper. Our third
child, Heidi, is living at home again. She graduated the university and has
been looking for a job. (She has another
interview on Monday, please keep your fingers crossed.)
art appreciation curriculum. She listened sympathetically, and then offered to
do an art lesson about composition. (She has an art minor.)
colored pencils might be better. She
said yeah, but paint is a LOT more fun and something else about other kinds
of “media” whatever that is, and the
kids all enthusiastically agreed.
background and five truly beautiful pieces of art emerged, paints, markers,
bits of glued colorful tissue paper, depth, form, color, and indeed foreground,
middle ground and background.
Maria and I left for Target in the dark, just as the storms began, drove there
in flashes of lightening and shimmery rain, yellow lights shining in all the
windows of the houses along the way.
new toothbrush, a battery for the remote. It was fun to be alone with Maria,
and now the house is quiet, a peaceful glass of wine is next to me with
Letterman on the TV, and a guy’s in my bed snoring not too loudly.
happy. Tomorrow is Friday and the weekend is looking promising. Thank goodness for perfect days, in the
million different ways they can manifest… if one finds you, take it. Sending my love always, Val”
that was a nice trip down memory lane..that Esther was a pip. xoxox
nice post
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