I was talking to a friend who has four kids. She knows all of the administrators at our school. She knows all of the teachers. She knows exactly what to do on Colonial Day (a 4th grade phenomenon in Virginia). She is very excited because her little one is finally out of preschool, and now they don’t have to pay tuition until the oldest goes to college.
This is so different from my world.
When you have twins – and only twins – you do everything once, but TO THE EXTREME.
I only gave birth once. They came home from the hospital at the same time. Their first baths were back to back. We only had one first day of kindergarten.
If all goes well, both of my children will go away to college at the same time.
By the time I figured out what the heck I was supposed to be doing for snack, preschool was over.
This Friday will be my children’s last day of second grade, and that’s that. I’ll never have a second grader again. I’ll never have any babies again. I’ll never have a toddler or a kindergartener or a little kid again.
Now I have two big kids. They can read and ride bikes (sort of) and swim and be legally left alone for 30 minutes at a time.
That is not to say I’m ready to leave them alone for 30 minutes at a time, just that I could if I wanted to.
The whole early elementary school thing is over. We’re now ready for third grade. Or, I guess the kids are. I’m not sure I am. I don’t usually get sentimental about this kind of milestone, but there’s always been something magical about second grade. It was one of my favorite times at school. Maybe it was Mrs. Plank, maybe it was because I had my first real best friend, maybe it was the excitement of first liking boys. Second grade was a good time, seven was an easy age for me and for my kids. Now it’s on to third grade. I don’t remember third grade being quite as good, but we’ll do it anyway because that’s what comes next.
TO THE EXTREME.
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