First Day of School

Here are the Three Musketeers off to their first day of Kindergarten. Declan, Ryan and Jake....our little Bermuda Triangle!!! Something tells me we will look back on this picture in fifteen years and say that this picture foretold the future in many ways.

You know how you're afraid they might be afraid....and plan all the ways to make the transition for them as smooth and comfortable as possible? You think of every cliche thing to say, you pack special treats in their bag, the bag you picked out special to surprise them with for their first day at school. And then they completely forget you are even there, too busy, excited and wrapped up in the adventure and they run off to the bus almost forgetting even to kiss you goodbye. Yeah. That was today. Didn't even hear me calling his name.......*sigh* Have a wonderful first day, my growing-up-too-fast big boy!!!

Me and my guy.

Wear Does The Time Go?

Declan starts Kindergarten in two weeks. I vaguely remember the picture of me on my first day - I was so tiny...and wearing hideous brown seventies clothes with red shoes and I think yellow socks. No, Mom, I won't ever let you live the fashion choices down...unless you cop to doing drugs, because there simply cannot be any other viable excuse. I was forever ridiculed in grade school for the way I looked. It took me until high school to finally shake the stigma, and it helped I was able to finally buy my own clothes. But the memory of the insecurity based on appearance in school has always stayed with me. So today, I was shopping for 1st Day of School clothes....this, after taking him for a haircut and breathing down the stylists' neck so she would not do anything to screw up the perfected coiffed head I envisioned. It's ironic and odd tho, that I am more obsessed with dressing my son in the most non-potentially nerdifiying clothes as possible while I roam the aisles with no makeup and my hair wound in a blue scunchie, wearing a Playboy Club Las Vegas pink t-shirt and grey flannel sweatpants that are too big for me. Perhaps I've already conceded that I'm a lost cause in any case that doesn't require formal attire, or maybe it's just that I don't expect to see anyone at Target at 8:30am on a Sunday morning. Either way, I am obsessed with my son's wardrobe choices. While I want him to develop his own sense of style....or, in all honestly, develop his own sense of CLASSIC style....no saggy ass pants crotches, no "Kill, Hate, Death" tee-shirts, and most importantly....the desire to shower regularly. It slightly horrifies me that he loves to pull his socks up to his knees - I love Erckle to death, but I don't want to be his mom. I am (not so) embarrassed to admit I actually by him ankle socks now so he physically can't pull them that high. I know, he's five. But I also know I'm going to blink, and he'll be taller than I am and asking for the car keys. Perhaps I am convinced that as long as he's dressed the part, he'll have a better chance of living it....

Ah, the manipulations of a parent. Likely futile, but never ending......