Hey kids,
I coulda sworn there was an invitation sent home in your backpack, Jakob. And a call for snack moms. I even emailed your teacher to confirm the time and date: "End-of-School Party on Monday, 9:15-10:15 a.m. Parents invited."
I had worked pretty late the night before (Yes, Sunday night... Jakob, don't ever become a graphic designer if you value your time. Or appreciate scads of money...), so was kinda muzzy-headed when your daddy shook me awake and said we had to be at school in an hour. But I was showered, awake and rarin' to go at the appointed time.
Of course, daddy had put you on the bus, so you were already there when me and daddy and your sister showed up at your classroom. We peered in the door, expecting... I dunno what we expected. Balloons? Excited parents milling about? Cake, food, beverages, music? That's what characterized last year's End-of-Year Blowout. Miss Sheri had handed out awards to everyone, there were decorations, lots of singing, lots of cake and the party pretty much lasted the entire class period.
This year, not so much. Daddy, me and your sister were the only ones who showed up, with an armload of snacks, until one other mom showed up, about 20 minutes later (she brought a bag of Lay's potato chips).
It was pretty much business as usual for you guys. I guess what made it a "party" was there were a few more snacks than usual at snack time. But it was interesting for daddy and me to watch all of you in action, and to dig in and help out with the kids. I found myself fetching apple juice for everybody, sitting and reading out loud with Tyler and Vanya, and cleaning up after Wavy's various messes, until it was time for all of you to line up to go outside to play.
The above photo is everyone except you starting to line up to go outside. You have to keep jumping out of line, fretting that everyone else is queueing up properly and waiting their turn. You're such a little busy-body! You will probably grow up to be a census taker. And look at the size of some of those bruisers! But I can finally say this year that you are not the smallest person in the class.
After we got home, I emailed the teacher and thanked her (rather tongue-in-cheekily?) for the invite and to tell her that we were all looking forward to next year. This is what I got back:
Hi Kelly,
And thanks so much to you two for coming over and for the great snacks! In case you couldn't tell, Jakob is a favorite for all of us. Looking forward to having Jakob here next year too!
Awwww...
I'll end this post with a story for you, Wavy, cuz it seems like Jakob has been the spotlight hogger for the past few days.
I took you out for your first completely stroller-free, around-town outing a couple days ago. I thought it would be nerve-wracking, having you just hanging out and not strapped into anything. Our first stop was lunch at Pita Pit.
Let me start by saying that daddy dressed you before we left the house. I didn't think to double-check him, as he is usually pretty conscientious about this kind of stuff.
So we enter the restaurant, with you trailing along behind me, and I'm steeling myself for the inevitable "oh, isn't she cute..." comments that seem to dog you wherever you go (heh. heh-heh). But no! What do I hear? Giggles! And then in a gigantic stage whisper, "Momma! That baby's pants are falling down!"
I look back behind me, and there you are, waddling the best you could with your pants down around your ankles, your Huggies (fresh and clean, thank GAWD) for all to see. Daddy had apparently dressed you from the "let's wait a year or two before trying these on again" bin.
I was mortified! Problem was solved, of course, once I got you seated and a grilled pita in front of you. When we got back out to the car, I changed you into an old pair of your brother's sweatpants, that TOTALLY didn't go with your cute outfit.
Sigh... not much of a story, sweetie. But it's all I got for now. Love you!
No comments:
Post a Comment