Last week was a big week around these parts.  Somehow, summer ended and The School Grind started.  Just like that.  That change of gears always feels so abrupt to me.  Abrupt but, let’s be real, welcomed.  Our summer was lovely, yes it was.  But, oh friends, it was high time to get back to it.

First, it was this kid’s turn.  He started second grade last Monday at a brand new school.  With brand new people.  And with all kinds of novel things like school buses and cafeterias which his previous little charter school didn’t have.  For a kid who hates transitions and struggles with change of any kind, this was a really, really big deal.  So, we prayed our tails off for weeks about the transition.  The school.  Teachers.  Friends.  And by Monday morning, he was off.


As I waited at the bus stop that afternoon, I was nothing short of a wreck.  I knew his first day would set the tone for the year, and I had no idea what to expect.  I tried to read his face as he stepped off the bus and, at first glance, couldn’t decipher his expression.  But then it happened: “That was the best day of my year so far!”

ThankyouJesus, Amen.

A few days later, it was this girl’s turn.  Because, basically, this is how it goes down: you have a baby and then, SECONDS LATER, send them off to kindergarten.  Matt said that I was being a litttttle misleading by dressing her so sweet and innocent-like.  But I also know that, when it comes to smocked dresses and hairbows, I am operating on borrowed time.  Mary Grace’s unsuspecting kindergarten teacher can go on thinking whatever she wants to think about her as long as she wants to think it.  Meanwhile, I will enjoy the bows and jumpers ’till the bitter end.


Apparently, my mother felt the same way on my first day of kindergarten, circa 1988…


Anyway, I would almost like to say it was a dreadfully teary day around here.  You know, sending my darling little bow-headed cherub off to school.  Because, after seeing all of the other mothers with mascara-smeared faces that morning, at least I’d then feel NORMAL.


But here’s the thing- she was beyond ready.  We were ready.  And, LORD KNOWS, that girl can hold her own.


And so, while she paced the house waiting to go, we had a dance party to celebrate.  Don’t judge.


Now, if I did shed a tear or two last week, it was because of this:


For the past few years, these two have spent nearly every waking- and now, every sleeping- moment together.  Depending on the hour, they are BFFs and arch nemeses but, nevertheless, are always together.  Until last week.  Thinking of them spending hours apart every week was wrecking me.  And I just couldn’t handle the thought of how Elizabeth would fare without her loving, if not slightlyyyy dictatorial, big sister.


Turns out, she’s going to be OKAY.