Mason started Kindergarten last week. This boy of mine completely acts like a kindergartener too. He catches a ride with mom (me) in the morning, eats usually only a couple things that I put in his lunch, and then rides the bus home from school (cuz that's where all his friends are).
He loves it. He has never complained about going. Never been sad about leaving me. Never been scared to venture to this new school, new classroom, new teacher. He's brave.
He's ready. That's the real definition of the situation right now. He's just plain ready. He did preschool last year and that gave him a taste of school. He loved it last year and wanted to go everyday all day. But unfortunately for him, he only went 2 days a week for 3 hours.
This year we leave at 7:15am and he gets home around 3pm. It's strange having him gone. I'll admit I didn't cry when I dropped him off for his first day. There were other tears shed before that though. Like the day he got a postcard from his teacher in the mail. I cried when I saw it. Or at meet the teacher night when his new teacher gave Mason a tiny bag of confetti with a poem attached about the night before kindergarten. I cried when I tried to read it to him. (But then again, so did Scott :o)
Taking him to school felt natural. It felt like he was where he needs to be. So I didn't cry when I dropped him off. I went home and wondered what to do with myself with only two children (when the most wiggly one was at school)! Turns out my 3 year old is QUITE the talker without Mason there to interrupt her. Man that girl can talk! :o)
And this week Dakota starts her mommy preschool group which will be every Tuesday and Thursday. So then I will be left with just one cute, chubby little baby. Well, for a few hours a week anyway.
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