Summertime

Today is the last day of school for Brendan's class. It's hard to believe that he'll be a Kindergartner next year. It would be a cliche to say how fast the years have flown by. I still feel like I'm just getting to know him, my smart, beautiful, imaginative little guy. Every day he surprises me with his ability to show and receive love.

I remember that last summer he lamented the fact that he, unlike many of his other friends, did not have a best friend. His teacher last year commented that unlike some of the other boys in his class, Brendan sometimes liked to play alone. How it has warmed my heart to watch him blossom this year ... to see him make friends and laugh and have a good time, to learn to write, draw, and count, to be well-liked by his teachers and fellow students, to find a best friend.

The pictures in the attached slideshow are some I took at the pre-K end-of-year party on Wednesday. It was a pool party and the children could not have had more fun! They ran from pool to pool, played on the Slip 'N Slide, ate pizza and popsicles, and generally had about as much fun as I've ever seen a bunch of kids having. I feel really lucky that I got to be there.

One of my favorite pictures in the slideshow is of Brendan with his best friend, Kush. They love each other in such a pure, unconditional way. Everyday when they see each other they hug. On Saturday, Brendan found a box here that a toy had come in. On the outside of the package were pictures of Spiderman and Venom. Brendan loves Spidey, but so does Kush, so Brendan asked if we could cut out the picture of Spiderman and take it to his friend. Of course we did. I am proud of my loving and giving little fellow, yet simultaneously surprised at how loving and giving he can be. But I guess that's what you do for your best friend.

As always, though, I've gotten ahead of myself, hoping they'll remain friends for a long, long time. Who knows? We'll see. Right now, it just brings me joy to see these two sweet boys and their friendship.

School Night

My baby's growing up.

Brendan began his life as a public school student today, entering pre-Kindergarten at our neighborhood school. Very exciting. And not nearly as sad as I thought it would be.

I think any sad or melancholy emotions I might have experienced were overshadowed by my concern for him attending public school instead of private school. I never thought it would be an issue for me. I'm the product of public school and I turned out fine.

Of course, the public schools I attended were in a small town with lots and lots of money for educating kids. Our schools were always safe, clean, and our teachers reliable.

Here? I don't know.

I swear a child is going to get lost in Brendan's classroom. Everyone assures me the teacher, though not great, loves the kids. But her classroom looks like a bomb went off. It's dirty, cluttered, and totally chaotic. I hate it. It's driving me nuts.

I feel like I'm being closed-minded somehow. The school has such a good reputation, but I just feel like he's going to get lost in the shuffle of it. It's so different than the sweet little private preschool he was going to.

After dropping him off today, I found myself hoping he'd start hanging around this particular group of kids who were, as I told Scott, destined to become the kind of kids I hated growing up. Rich, preppy, athletic, good-looking. Not the kids with whom I was hanging out. But they were the most easily identifiable group to me. None of the other kids seemed quite....with it somehow.

Nope. I was hanging with the freaks and geeks, rebels and smart kids. Not losers. But not the kids running the show either.

As much as I hated those kids and still disapprove of those sorts of people as adults, I find myself thinking life will be easier for Brendan if he gravitates toward those people. And then I hate myself for thinking that way.

I just have to hope and pray that he finds his own way and figures out who he is and then I have to love him and embrace him whether he turns out to be a brain, a jock, a criminal, or a basket case, or something in between.