School starts in two weeks for my two youngest circus clowns.
Sing with me now…oh happy day…
Yes, I am looking forward to sending the kids off to school. I look forward to the adventures that each new school year brings them. I don’t look forward to the reams of redundant paperwork that I have to fill out for each child. But it could be worse. It could be 2005 where I find myself filling out reams of paperwork for FIVE children.
…oh happy day…
We just received Daniel’s school assignment for third grade. Of course he will be attending a new school. I hate, hate, hate that due to the school district’s budget woes along with the expectation that they comply with Federal law in providing education for children with special needs, the school district now has consolidated the Special Day Class programs in the district which means Daniel gets bussed away from his neighborhood school and his school assignment likely will change year to year as long as he is a student in the SDC program. At the same time I am very happy that he will not be bussed across town to a school in a neighborhood with known violent gang activity this year. He doesn’t get to return to his neighborhood school but he has been assigned to a school close to the Big Top. A school that year after year competes for top honors with our neighborhood school and a school that feeds into his big sisters’ high school. Just like last year, we hope to get a sneak peek at the campus.
Meanwhile, we have to get ready in other ways because it seems that this child of mine who grows at a snail’s pace and will likely be soon starting human growth hormone therapy has grown out of pants, shorts, shoes and shirts that fit him just fine as he finished up second grade a couple of months ago…yes, they are clothes that I bought for him a year ago.
OMG, my 9½ year old son is now wearing boys’ size six!!!
…oh happy day…
Shopping for jeans (skinny jeans, naturally), shorts, polos, tees and his very first pair of Toms it is clear he is indeed a 9½ year old boy with very discerning tastes. What I liked and thought would look wonderful on him he would veto. But his selections proved to be exactly right. I guess my little man is truly growing up.
It is then that he solemnly informs me that he is ALMOST a teenager.
He’s trying to kill me.
I swear he is.
Thankfully I have 3½ more years before that reality hits me. Until then I am going to enjoy third grade with my boy.