Nathan had his first day of school this week. My baby! In school! It seems that we had a long period of summer induced radio silence from the school district and then we entered a warp speed of Individualized Education Plans, daycare shifts and hardcore schedules.
We dropped Nathan off to his class and he entered the coven of other students. Then Mike had to break that trance by reminding him that his daycare provider would be picking him up and then it was like a bomb went off in his mind, realizing that we were leaving. He then cried out in weepy fluctuating tones, “I WANNA GOOOO HOOOME!”
Then Mike bolted out the door with TJ in tow and there was the teacher comforting Nathan and saying, “Wave bye to mommy!” I didn’t want to look back because I know those tears–as painful and heart-breaking as they are to see appear–end shortly after we’re gone. But since Mike had already ditched me and trotted down the hall, I was the bad mom who waved back at her weeping, abandoned son.
The whole day I couldn’t think of much else but my baby, this little one who had entered our world in a fierce and unexpected rush. He was a wonderful baby, a trying toddler and now as a kid, he’s a little human growing into this body of a boy with a mouth of a drunk sailor and an appetite of a sumo wrestler.
I remember dressing him up in mustaches and blonde wigs.
This was the baby who laughed at Rice a Roni like it was Jim Gaffigan on stage (also the top google search for Nathan and Rice a Roni!).
When Nathan came home with his coat still in his possession, he was unable to tell us much more about his day other than the slide! The crackers! The juice! Swedish massages! Who knew the school system levy also included spa treatments? But even his babbles and truncated sentences were colored with the spirit of a good time had and the note that came from his teacher filled in the blanks: