Tuesday, August 31, 2010
First Day At The Big K
Today was Hubba's first day of kindergarten.
I don't think there has ever been a more excited boy. He was up and dressed with his backpack on, ready to leave with the older kids in the morning - but (im)patiently waited for his afternoon class time to roll around.
When we arrived at the school he was still literally bouncing with excitement. He became frustrated at one point that I was not walking fast enough with his two younger siblings in tow and urged us to "Hurry your feet, guys!"
As we approached his classroom and he saw the crowd of parents and new kindergartners he suddenly became apprehensive. "You come in with me, okay?" he asked.
"I have the little kids, Hubba. You go ahead. You'll be fine," I answered - although every inch of me wanted to follow him in and stay as long as he needed me.
My eyes may have teared up some on the way home.
After school I waited in the appointed spot for the kids to meet up with me. I could tell from across the street, by the way Hubba was walking, that something was wrong. As soon as he got to the car I asked, "How was your first day of kindergarten?"
"I don't know," he answered, sounding like he was ready to cry. Then he let out a sigh and said, "Boooor-ing."
"What happened?" I asked.
And then it all spilled out. "It wasn't even fun! My cheecher wouldn't even let me ride the bus after school! She said I haved to wait and go home wif you! Well, who wants to even go to school if I can't ride the bus? That's dumb!"
I suppressed my laughter and asked if anything positive had happened on his first day.
"Recess was fun. We got to drink juice in paper cups and eat two cookies. That was fun. But nuffing else."
"Nothing?" I pried. "Didn't you do anything exciting in your class? Did you get to sing songs or read stories or anything?"
A sigh. "Only one song." Another sigh. "And we saw a book but we didn't even get to read it. I really don't want to talk about it."
"Well, tell me what was boring," I asked, eyeing him in the rear-view mirror.
He rolled his eyes at me. "Everything, okay? It would take like two days to tell you."
"I've got two days."
"Uggghh! FORGET IT, MOM."
Oh, the miserable, non-fun kindergarten life of a five-year-old boy.
I can't wait to see what's in store for the rest of the year.