Happy Back to School Season!

He's a big boy, now!

My son started Kindergarten on Wednesday.  It was the first time for me, dropping a child off at elementary school.  He was in Pre-K last year, but for some reason, this was different.  My husband and I drove him to school.  We helped him line up out front with the other kids.  When it was time to shuffle into the building, we helped him find his backpack hook.  Inside, he gave me a quick hug and ran over to the carpet, ready for circle time.  And that was it.  Suddenly my little boy was a big kid.

No, I didn't cry.  I mean, I ran out to the hallway as fast as I could, and it took several long minutes of staring at the wall to convince myself I wasn't going to cry.  Afterwards, the Kindergarten parents went to the library for coffee and donuts.  We met the principal.  The moms talked and joked nervously, none of us really wanting to show how hard this process was for us.  Then it was time to drive home, sans children.

That night at dinner, my son talked for nearly half an hour about everything that happened at school.  Which was mostly sitting and listening to the rules, and playing on the playground.  It was harder than normal to get him to go to bed that night, because he still wanted to tell me about every little thing his new friends had done or said.  I let him, because I think he's got a little bit of storyteller in him, too.

All kids do, I think.  We all start out with this epic sense of adventure, even if our experiences are limited.  The bathtub is an ocean.  The backyard is a jungle.  A blanket thrown over the bunk bed is a fort.  As we grow older, some of us lose this.  Bathtubs are just one more thing to clean.  Yards need mowing.  Bunk beds are a pain in the neck to change sheets.  A few of us, the ones called writers, get to tiptoe along that line of fantasy and reality.  My tub really does need cleaned, but it can also be an ocean.  The dinner table at my house is a place to eat, but it's also the stage for all kinds of stories, some that I tell, but most my kids dream up.

I hope I never lose this sense of imagination.  When I take the dog for a walk and my son shouts, "Charge!" I hope I always see the invisible army he's battling.  I hope he sees it, too.  Imagination is one of the greatest gifts man possesses.

I'll share one last link that occasional guest Proser Stefan recently shared with me.  I'm linking to it so there's no issue with copyright infringement, but I hope you'll check it out.  It's called Scary Smash and it's written by a kid.  Very cute.

Have a great week everyone, and if you're dropping kids at school soon, I hope you have an easier time than I did!