(The obligatory OMG I almost forgot to take your picture on the first day of school photo. Don't worry, I did put a coat on him before we left. And also, for your viewing pleasure, please note the giant princess backpack that is twice the size of the girl carrying it.)
The first day went well-ish. Despite Abby's proclamations that she "will not cry, Mommy," she did. It was actually rather pitiful for both of us as I peered in (with a handout over my face: mommy camo) to see her little blonde head sobbing at a tiny preschool table. Face absolutely swallowed whole by her hands with the tell-tale shoulder hiccups of a broken heart. I could not leave the hallway.
Seriously, I think I lost like 15 in dog years right then and there.
Then, Master Grayson rocked it out with a high five and a quick kiss goodbye when I dropped him off in his new room. His lips went pale and his eyes dug at my soul as I backed out of the classroom but we both steeled ourselves for an afternoon without each other. I was very proud of both of us.
Another 15 dog years.
Today was a different song and dance, however.
Abby didn't have class today but Grayson did. And he was.not.happy.about.it.
Let's just say they had to call the "Specialist" to help a mother out. Resource Specialist wound up having to peel him from my pant leg while I tried in vain to get him to stop dry heaving. And then came the flailing arms. He maybe could've lifted off had he been still holding his lunchbox. Boy was pissed. Mom was defeated. And sobbing down the hallway with her shattered vision of another smooth transition.
Another 15 dog years.
I should probably look into becoming a cat instead.
May Day 3 of Preschool Acclimatisation go more smoothly. OR maybe all the sobbing will give my skin a youthful glow while I cower in the corner with stale coffee and plans to home school.
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