It's hard for me to believe it - but yesterday I sent my thing one, Jake, off to his first day of middle school. He was decked out in his outfit of choice: black skinny jeans, gray t-shirt, pinkish/red hoodie and high top skater shoes. He is one handsome devil.
Middle school so far feels very mysterious to me. With grade school I was allowed to walk the kids in, encouraged to volunteer, and knew the exact protocol for drop offs and pick ups. Yesterday I thought it best to let Mr. Veen drop Jake off as I was worried I might embarrass him by NEEDING to walk him in or help him with his locker. When in came time for pick up I completely botched it by driving up the wrong one way street and having to circle back around past the school. Jake stood on the corner with a disgusted and bewildered look on his face - I was glad for the tinted windows in our new car.
And so it was that I found myself entirely relieved (after having spent the morning on edge of a panic attack) when Jake got in the car and I asked the age old question: "How was school today" to which he replied: "Good."
It was "Good." Not a fake "good" where you really know it wasn't good and they're just trying to get you off their back. No, it was good. He liked it!
And that's all I need to know right now.