Well, so far, so good.Number #1
Our first born, who is shy and sensitive but also smart and intuitive, has made a nice transition to her new school. Her teacher seems great. Her third grade teacher has been teaching for more than two decades and has awesomely, honed powers of order, structure and routine. This is ideal as my girl thrives in this sort of environment and gets none of it at home. She is an amazing reader and retains everything. She is witty and clever and makes the kind of jokes that are so smart that I don't always get them right away. Who would be expecting this from an eight year old! She loves animals, her music, and sports. #1 is very hard working! She is excited about school and making new friends. Her third grade classroom is cool and full of great stuff. Wait, it's "cool" and welcoming, but it's HOT. There is something wrong with the air conditioning and there are more than 30 active, little bodies in that tiny, crowded room.
We have had no school related crisis with #1. All is good, despite my fears and my innate ability to almost always say the wrong thing or to just plain say something those moments that I shouldn't say anything at all (you will see a lot of run on sentences and other grammatical errors on this blog). She was nervous and excited the first day as she waited for the bus but did not miss any sleep the night previous. She left for school with a smile and returned home with a smile. Wearing a smile and clothes she chose herself, not forced upon her by a loving, but critical, controlling mom. I am very proud of her. I underestimated her and boy did she put me in my place.
Our Middle Child, the Rock Star
Day one of Kindergarten for our boy was easy. He casually waited for the bus with #1, who had already been to school for two days and was casual herself. When the bus arrived he grabbed her hand, crossed the street, climbed on the bus and rode off into the unknown, joyfully. With him almost everything is joyful. All things start and end with giggles and little hops, skips and arm swings of happiness. I'm not sure if he always understands what's going on around him but whatever it is, he's okay with it. Before you are too charmed by this description note that he is a six year old boy who loves bodily emissions humor, weapons (although we don't allow them, with the exception of swords and light sabres), gore-y action and sci-fi.
When our middle child got off the bus, Baby and I were waiting. He hit the ground running (which is one nickname we have for him!) and was followed by shouting and the sound of little hands banging on the windows. We watched the bus drive off with boys and girls, their noses pressed against the windows, waving and shouting, "Bye, (his name)". Was this happening at each bus stop? We'll never know, but I will refer to him in our blog as Rock Star.
Baby is the Boss
Our baby has been ready for school always. She couldn't stand it that the others started before she did and that they got to ride a bus. I checked her in at her preschool classroom and kissed her goodbye. She grabbed her name tag from her teacher with authority and never looked back. For her, school provides a whole new audience for her jokes, stories, songs and dances. And 20 new people, 22 if you count the teachers, to tell what to do and how.
This one loves to perform and be the center of attention almost as much as mom and maternal grandpa. A van ride with our whole team can be crazy, all of us talking, except for Dad. We try to take turns, directed by Dad. He is best at that since I'm one of "them" that wants to be heard. Inevitably, Baby interrupts with screams and shouts of, "That's enough!" and "My turn!". Her life is an operetta. To compare it with a musical is too tame, she has more darkness and drama than that. She walks around singing her conversations and sings descriptions of objects and her feelings. On the spot she can create a song to honor you, if you are on her good side, or a song to let you know how you have betrayed her. She is so loud and intense that it's always been easiest to just give her what she wants. Her own siblings cater to her a lot of the time!
Birth order psych has our kids pegged.
