Author: Robin Chartier

Last night clothes were laid out, alarms were set, and lunches were packed. You know how I said I briefly (like for 2 seconds, and only in my head) considered making Lucy the morning mom? Before bed Carter came and gave me an extra hug and kiss:
“In case I don’t see you in the morning.”
Me: “Why would you not see me in the morning?”
Carter: “I thought you might sleep in.”

Mother of the Year here, people. Mother of the YEAR.

But guess who didn’t sleep in this morning — this guy! He was the first one ready, dressed, hair brushed, breakfast eaten and waiting by the door. I guess he decided school wasn’t such a horrible place after all.

It was 90 something degrees and sweatier than a greenhouse inside a sauna. I have no idea why Calvin is wearing jeans. 

Our neighbors also have 3 kids going to the same school. Between us we have two 7th graders, a 5th, 4th and 2nd grader, and a Kindergartner. I’m hoping that gives us a better chance of actually catching the bus. Rumor has it that if you aren’t waiting outside they will leave without honking or ringing the doorbell. That reminds me of my high school days having to use A/C Transit — except the bus drivers would see us waiting and drive right by without stopping. 

Playing around while waiting for the bus. It’s probably the only day all year that we’ll be ready before the bus arrives at 7:45ish

It’s here! The bus is a lot older than I expected from some of the other buses I’ve seen at the school. I wasn’t even sure it was the right bus until I saw some other kids wearing the same uniform shirts already on board.

The bus attendant is the woman behind Caleb in the abaya. She makes sure the kids are behaving themselves while the driver concentrates on driving. Josh had to remind Caleb this morning that the person driving the bus was not called the bus boy.

He may be in middle school, but he still stopped and smiled for the camera.

After the bus left, Josh and I finished eating breakfast and then headed over to school. I wasn’t worried about them, but this was my first day of school too and I didn’t want to miss it. I could have driven them today (like many of the parents do on the first day), but I wanted them to get all the newness and nervousness out of the way at once.

I don’t have a good picture of the school because every time I try and take one, the white building blends into the white desert sand — but it’s beautiful and new looking.

We first stopped by Caleb’s class. His teacher is on the right and Caleb’s head is peeking over the edge of the couch behind her.

The bell hadn’t even rung yet and he’s already got friends. (And he was thrilled to finally meet the real life Howie). The kid in the middle was reading a story to them.

Next we went by Carter’s class. I told him I wouldn’t embarrass him by waving, but in my super-spy way I snapped this picture from outside the door.

Then he looked up and saw me. Yes, yes, I’m leaving. School hasn’t even officially started yet. I left him a rial in his locker to make up for the fly-by. On certain days each week they have Dairy Queen blizzards so he’s going to want to have ice cream money on him at all times. Then Josh and I went by the cafeteria and ordered cappuccinos before walking upstairs to check out the middle school.

Aside from me walking into a wall in my care not to be seen by anyone in first period science, all was fine on the second floor. Calvin and his friend from next door were in class together and they looked like they were busy meeting everyone.

I knew they’d be fine, but it was fun to see it with my own eyes. One day down, many more to go . . .

Yes, I know my son writes like a 3rd grader. That’s completely my fault. Really, genetically my fault. I had almost perfect grades throughout elementary school, except for those persistent S’s and even a few Ns in handwriting (C and D equivalent). I never realized how illegible it was until I was browsing through some old Father’s Day cards that I had sent my dad over the years. I picked one up thinking it was from when I was in elementary school . . . only to read, “Thanks for all the help with college stuff.” Oops. So, yeah. I promise we’ve worked on it (a lot), but he got the short end of the stick in the handwriting department. In spite of the messy papers he’ll hand in, he’s really bright, loves to read, and is an enthusiastic student who wants to please you. You’ll love him.

Fourth grade teacher? You are so lucky that my son started reading in the last 6 months. You don’t even know what a bullet you dodged there. He may still put you to sleep with the monotone and stilted voice he uses to read out loud, but at least he no longer sees the first few letters of a word and guesses. I’m hoping you can get him to love reading, cause so far I’ve struck out. He’ll do it as a chore, but he’d rather play Legos all day long than pick up a book. He’s actually a natural at math, but his squirreliness gets in the way of his brightness at times. He’s certainly not your traditional excellent student, because he doesn’t care about being perfect. He’d rather plow through and get on to having fun. I hope you like that about him. It’s nice to have him around to balance out those neurotic perfectionist types. 

Yes, my son is loud. He has two older brothers to compete with for attention — he didn’t get the nickname “Loudy McLoudsAlot” for nothing. If he’s enjoying himself, you will know it. We put him in second grade because he’s tall for his age, but with his July birthday he’s probably the youngest student in your class. He’s still a beginning reader — partly because he’s young, partly because we spent the year roaming around the world, and partly because he was working through a beginning reading program that has been missing since we moved here. Ironically, I found it tonight. He loves books, is excited about reading, and has good phonemic awareness so I’m expecting things to click for him this year. Don’t worry about him needing speech therapy. He doesn’t actually have a lisp. He listens to the Ramona Quimby audiobooks every night and copies her speech patterns. He was ridiculously excited to see that there was a Howie in your class. I apologize in advance if he wants to call him “Howie Kemp” like in Ramona the Pest. As you’ll see, he is funny (sometimes to a fault), enthusiastic, and a people person. If you can keep him on task, he’ll be an excellent student.

I hope you have a wonderful year (and that I didn’t screw it up too badly).