First day of school.
My first grader didn’t want me to walk him to his class.
But I did.
My pre-schooler didn’t want me to walk her to her class.
She also requested that I braid half of her hair on one side of her head while the other side of her hair rests on her shoulders.
Perhaps, tomorrow, Miss Banana.
I had every intention in doing some deep cleaning and organization yesterday after dropping the kids off at school. I made the mistake of sitting down to rest for a moment.
A moment that turned into a few or a hundred.
They both had a great first day. Anna told me, “I didn’t do any bad stuff or say any bad words.” She had documentation to prove it. She smiled and gave me a certificate that announced, “Here Ye! Here Ye! The Royal Courts Declare Anna Takle was a Princess in Preschool Today!”
And, that, my friends, equals a successful day.
Dear John Henry,
You begin first grade today. I can hardly believe it. Really, I can’t. If it weren’t for the fact you’ve lost four teeth, grown another inch, and expanded your vocabulary, I’d swear you are still the little boy in this picture mesmerized by airplanes.
Airplanes don’t capture your attention the way they used to. I’m sure it’s due to the constant exposure and your Daddy Kris being a pilot. Although, I know you still think that being a pilot is cool. You do, right?
It’s okay if airplanes and other things begin to fade from your interest list. What’s important is that your pursuit of Christ doesn’t fade. That being in relationship with your Creator never grows stale. Never gets old.
That He always captures your attention.
I prayed the usual prayer I always pray over you last night. But, just before I said, “Amen,” I prayed something new for you.
I prayed you would begin to hear God’s voice.
You know that feeling you sometimes get to make a good choice instead of a bad choice? Or that feeling you sometimes get to give one of your toys to a friend? Or that feeling you sometimes get to pray for someone? That’s kind of what God’s voice sounds like at times.
I’m praying that His voice becomes clearer and clearer to you.
That’s what I’m praying for you this school year.
I can’t wait to hear what God tells you. I know He will tell you what I tell you so often:
I love you, son.
For those who don’t follow me on the Twitter, I thought you’d appreciate a picture of Anna’s wardrobe choice yesterday.
She thought a swimsuit cover-up accented with fluffy, pink heels would really make a statement while running errands with Mom and brother. I stood my ground. She changed into something a bit more presentable. With the fluffy, pink heels, of course. And, by the way, the basket of laundry is still strategically positioned right where you see it. Strategic in that I can say, “These clothes are clean, kids. Pick out something to wear.”
I’m gettin’ to it. Mkay? The important lesson here is to next time allow the cover-up and ban the shoes.
That I heard clippity clapping down every store aisle.
Her amusement knows no boundaries. She later requested that I close my eyes while driving, so she could tell me where to go. I didn’t, Dad. We made it safely home with my eyes mostly open. I’m a recoverin’ still, ya know.
I had to stay awake long enough to go to Parent Orientation at the kids’ school. I was beyond thrilled to see that John Henry’s Kindergarten teacher moved up to first grade, and he will have her again. And, I was reluctant in disclosing some of Anna’s more adventurous traits to her pre-school teacher. I felt ignorance was truly bliss in that matter. Don’t you agree?
Let’s just hope she’s never read this blog.