{ my end-of-school-year- report }

Yesterday was the last day of school for my Kindergartner.  There were mixed emotions full of joy and sadness.  I was a wreck.  Crying 'cuz my baby is growing up, crying because my house will not be clean EVER again for the next 10 weeks, and crying because Peace and Tranquility have gone on their summer vacation. 

So I decided to take this week's post and reminisce about the past school year...

This year I took it upon myself to become more active. That's why I decided that my children and I would walk to school every day. Okay, I'm lying. We walk to school because we only have one vehicle and my hubby has it at work. So every day I'm dragging my kids in a lovely red wagon to and from school. Uphill. Both ways. And in the snow.

Half way through the school year, I decide one day to leave my daughter with daddy while I retrieve my overly-excited-about-kindergarten son. I cannot even begin to tell you how many Random People- people I have never met before in my entire life come up and say "No wagon today, huh?". WHAT THE... I have now gone down in history as 'The Wagon Lady'. Yes, every time I didn't drag my beloved wagon behind me, Complete Strangers would comment. Thank you for pointing out that I'm missing a wagon- I had completely forgotten to grab my daughter, put her in it and PULL for 10 minutes to get to the school. So now...

I am The Wagon Queen.

Since we prefer walking as our school transportation method, I have another amusing story.

As I was walking through a sea of children trying to board buses {my son's hand loosing feeling because of the death grip I had on him, so as not to loose him in said sea of youth}, I heard a teacher yelling out to the students to stay lined up along the fence.  She yelled it out over and over, then looked at me and said "Sweety, I said against the fence."

There was an awkward pause.  I didn't know what to say, and then a voice inside me started to cry: "I'm a Mommy".

Then she realized her mistake- "Oh, I'm so sorry!"  she laughed, and continued on with her sheep herding duties.

Sadly, I am a towering 5 feet even, so that means even some 4th graders are taller than me.  Perhaps that's why I grabbed my son's hand so hard- if I lost him, I wouldn't be able to just 'look' over the heads of the children and pick him out.  *sniff*  I'm a Mommy...  

I love my job.  I teach wonderful children to sing and play the piano.  I love it.  Okay, yes, the feeling of pride is nice, and the sense of giving these children a life-long love of music is wonderful, but what makes me REALLY love it is the kids themselves.  More specifically- the darn things they say.  

During the middle of rehearsing a song, one student all of a sudden burst out "Did you know my parents say bad words?"  Luckily, her parents are good friends of mine, so I KNOW that they don't say bad words, but I couldn't stop laughing.  This same little girl on another occasion had also blurted out {yes, again DURING a song} "Does your dad love you?"  Ummm... I think so.  Maybe.  I hope so.  Man, this girl has me really thinking now.  Should I begin to doubt his love?  Does he really?  So I ask her why she asked me that.  "My daddy took me to Disneyland for my birthday.  So that means he loves me."  Oh, that's good.  Now I know what constitutes fatherly love.  So apparently my father does not love me.  For I am now aware of a new 'love measuring system'.  A little point off my self esteem chart just flew out the window.

And speaking of learning new things, I had another student inform me that if you want to resurrect the flavor of your bubble gum, just stick it in the fridge over night.  When you chew it in the morning- all the flavor will have returned.  Did Not Know That.  Still have yet to try it... I'll get back to you on that...

This child also informed me that I should count backwards from 5 when my kids get in trouble and I want them to do something.  He says it's the only thing that works for him and his brother.  This young man is a Fountain of Knowledge!  

Oh, how I will miss these nuggets of knowledge over the summer...

But back to MY son and the drawings that were brought home- I read in a book somewhere that you should never ask your child "What's this a picture of?" when gazing upon a jumbled concoction of lines, scribbles and dis proportioned body parts.  Which means this whole year was spent asking my son to "tell me about this picture", so as not to pop the fragile balloon of self esteem.  And believe me, I had to do a lot of thinking about that balloon.  Why did he not receive my artistic genes?  I am Totally blaming his father...

As I gazed on his report card yesterday {yes, they gave out report cards for kindergartners}, I felt a little embarrassed when I got excited about the fact that it finally didn't say NI {needs improvement}. Why didn't he receive my desire-to-overachieve-in-school genes?  I'll blame his father again...

This year has taught me a few other things.  

1 | I volunteer in my son's class 'cuz I need to make sure he's doing his work and obeying.  

2 |  I'm a sucker for book orders.  

3 | There must be something wrong with me 'cuz I don't 'linger' at the school like other moms, just to get a glimpse of my child walking through halls or playing on the playground.  

4 | I love abstract art- as long as the creator is my son.

This whole experience of having a child in school for the first time has left me with a lot of emotions.  I'm still confused about some, but what I think I've learned overall is this:

I am a 60-inch Tall Wagon-Queen Mother Of A Satisfactory Grade Almost 1st Grader Who's Father Didn't Take her to Disneyland For Her Birthday And Can't Seem To Pass On Her 'Good' Genes One Vehicled, Book And Abstract Art Loving Woman.  Hear me roar.  

Bring on the next school year.  I'm ready...