One hundred labels on school supplies (because yes, we had to label every crayon, marker, coloured pencil, and graphite pencil), one new school bag, one new lunch box later…
It’s the first day of Grade One.
(There are new sneakers, too — black hightops! — but as we don’t know if he needs a pair each of indoor and outdoor shoes this year like last year, they’re waiting at home because tying laces is still a challenge.)
He has a new bus driver, a very nice lady. And his bus stop is one block closer, which is a welcome change, although one wonders why the closer stop wasn’t assigned last year when he was younger. This morning’s routine seemed to work quite well. We’re going to have to find a new time for cello, though, because we can’t fit it in at 7:30 AM like we did last year, what with the baby and me needing that time to pump milk for the day’s supplements.
He’s very ready for school to start again, as we are; I think the lack of structure of summer vacation was wearing on him, despite our best efforts. Now he has something that’s just his own again that will keep his mind busy.
I’m looking forward to my day alone with the baby, but I’m also looking forward to meeting his bus this afternoon and hearing all about his day.
A yes, the labelling. I remember my mother slicing a chip of paint off each of my pencils and coloured pencils with an exacto knife, and then lettering my name onto the exposed wood with a dip pen and India ink!
You know, I did that with the graphite pencils, because the labels just were. not. sticking! My dad did it with my pencils as a kid, too.
I remember covering the books with backwards Steinberg’s bags.