Sunday, September 7, 2014

First week of school

The first week of fourth grade is in the books. A's school goes up to fifth grade, so just two more years to go and she's off to junior high. I could swear we just dropped her off for 4K the other day.


She looks so tiny with her big backpack. Now she's a big, bad fourth grader who wears skinny jeans (so skinny, in fact, that she can barely get her foot through the opening) and acts exasperated with her parents much of the time. On the first day of school, she wore a neon shirt, glittery high tops, and a SIDE PONYTAIL.  All she needed was a Scritti Politti cassette in her backpack and she could be transported straight to 1985.

The first week of school, she'd surrendered an item to the lost and found by the second day. She brought home a fundraiser on the third day. Yes, another school year has begun. Another year of filling out emergency contact forms, navigating the intricacies of the school lunch menus, signing homework logs, and yelling at the kid to get dressed every morning. Good times, good times.

I'm used to the routine by now, though. It's all good. What's changed, I think is the kid herself. I notice that our DVR is now full of tweenie shows and movies - stuff like "How to Build a Better Boy." She seems to be on a first name basis with Selena Gomez and Demi Lovato. I can't help but notice that her dad and I seem to be getting dumber and more irritating. The other morning P was humming the "Footloose" theme song.  This seemed to put the kid over the top. Plus, I've noticed that words seem to have extra syllables now. "Da-ad! Sto-op hu-umminnng-ah!"

I tease her about her ugly shoes and her skinny jeans, but I love that she has her own sense of style. She can rock a hat like nobody's business. Sames goes for scarves, though they usually end up in the lost and found. She's growing up . . . sort of.

Now, who wants to take bets on how long it takes this year's teacher to move her desk? Every year, it's fun to watch the new teacher shove my daughter's desk into every conceivable location in a foolish attempt to stop her from talking to her neighbor.


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