first days of school

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.

 We’d gone to visit the aunt I wait on, who is nearly 100 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. 

 

She accused me of stealing 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.)

 

She said the kids had 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!” 

 

The kids sat in a row against the wall with sober faces, wide eyes.  I tried to reason with her, but it was of no use, and she called me a liar.  

 

Today though, we went back in the morning with her clean laundry.   She is pretty lucid in the daytime they tell me, but in the evening, angry.  

 

This morning she was happy to see us, so we 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.

 

They looked in the little ponds and ate snacks.  I wished I’d brought a camera; it was such a 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.  

 

Our aunt didn’t remember the 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. 

 

After we left there, we went to the park for lunch.  It’s the first week of school and the park was abandoned.  Flowers blooming, fountain spraying, all perfectly quiet. In the whole huge park, we were the only people. 

 

Maria made the sandwiches and because I couldn’t decide what I wanted, she made mine half with mustard, half with cheese, pb+j for the little kids.  

 

They played hide and seek and tag until they were tired of it. We looked 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.

 

Then we headed to the second hand store to look for a hair crimper for a friend, and we found one!  Woo Hoo, and hail to the 90s! 

 

 I’d 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.

 

We picked up Little Jay from school and stopped at a garage 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. 

 

These crazy people wanted $4 for faded baby gowns that didn’t even cost that much new, $3 for old paperback books! 

 

 I was looking away, but the kids tell it—Tim 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.

 

When we got home Dan was sitting in the living room waiting for me, my second oldest son.  Nobody lights up a day quite like he does. 

 

He 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. 

 

When I got back home, Jay was home, and the grill was hot, 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.) 

 

The kids told her about our boring homeschool art appreciation curriculum. She listened sympathetically, and then offered to do an art lesson about composition. (She has an art minor.) 

 

She mentioned the paints she has, and I said 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.   

 

After supper she taught the kids about foreground, middle ground, and 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. 

 

Bathwater was run, kids shampooed, prayers said, and then 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.   

 

We found all the things we needed: ink for the printer, toilet paper, a 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.   

 

 The bills are all paid.  The customers, as far as I know, are all 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"