Too cool for school, or at least pictures anyway. I promised not to follow Ethan all the way to school and embarrass him on his first day, if he would allow me just one simple photo in the front yard. He agreed. I don't know if he really had any other choice though! I seriously can't believe he is in the 7th grade. I think the reason this is so strange to me, is because this is when you really start to remember life. The choices he makes, the friends he will meet, will more than likely last a lifetime. Some of my best and worst memories all occurred within the walls of Mueller Park Junior High School in Bountiful Utah. I hope in Ethan's case, there will be more good memories to be had than the bad ones. Either way, no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to keep this kid from growing up on me. Oh, and BTW, he now wears a larger shoe size than I do.
Little Miss Sassy Pants started preschool this year. She was soooo excited for her first day! The only downfall is that she attends in the afternoon. So all I hear Monday, Wednesday and Friday is "When is it time for school?".
We started at a new preschool this year. I have heard great things about their program, and it's always nice to have a change. We had to attend an orientation on the first day. There was one mom in particular, obviously a regular, who felt the need to continually interrupt with her own explanation of the program procedures. And when she wasn't interrupting, she would be vigorously shaking her head in agreement to whatever was being said. It was super annoying and ultra distracting. I found myself paying more attention to her, waiting for what her next overly dramatic response would be, rather than listening to what may have been imperative information regarding my daughters education. I doubt it, but still. And in case you were wondering, yes, her kid is in the same class as mine. Should be an interesting year.
Gabrielle was so fascinated with the fact that her name was everywhere. On the board, on her cubby, in the classroom, even the hook to hang her backpack. Amazing!
And what blog post of mine would be complete without a documented injury? This was the result of a big sister, we won't name which one, who tried to push Brady in the stroller down the front porch stairs. The worst part is that I wasn't home. Gasp! I guess my twelve year old needs a few more babysitting lessons. Oh heck, this could have just as easily happened even when I was home. No permanent damage, and another lesson learned... strollers can flip over and babies can land on their heads.
1 comment:
Ok, so first of all, I don't remember anything I learned in Middle School, but I do remember ALL the horrible social crap that came with the dawn of adolesence (really? how do you spell that?). And, secondly, there is ALWAYS that one mom, just think, she will probably be the over achieving helper and you will be off the hook.
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