E and Z started school yesterday.
They weren't too thrilled by the prospect.
And who can blame them?
It was too nice of a day to spend inside a classroom.
It turns out Z had good reason to be apprehensive--he hurt himself on the playground at recess.
His legs, as they say here in Maine, are all stove up, and he's missing the second day of school.
We're making good use of ice, ibuprofen, arnica, and castor oil (my grandmother's old timey bruise remedy).
I'm hoping he'll be back on his feet--and back in school--tomorrow.
Meanwhile, M and I attended freshman orientation last night and he started high school today. I'm feeling a surprising lack of sentimentality over this momentous occasion--I didn't even get out of bed to see him off this morning, let along take pictures of him getting on the bus (for which he wouldn't have thanked me anyway). I think I'm just feeling such great relief to have gotten to this point--after a year of struggle convincing him this school is the right choice (we don't have a HS in our town, so we get to choose) and a summer of anxiety expressed as surly teenagerness. I'm expecting to see him arrive home this afternoon wound up with excitement over the new friends, new experiences, and new challenges ahead. We'll see...
Your boys have had such an amazing summer, I wouldn't want to go back to stuffy old classrooms as well. But I'm sure they'll get into the swing of things. I feel you on the sentimentality thing. Little MIss started kindergarten and I was surprised by how little sadness was in me. Acceptance is an amazing thing. Knowing the road ahead is the one that must be travelled and not trying to hold on to the past. I hope he has found joy in his new surroundings. :-)
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