Wake Up Sleepy Head...

We overslept. I had the pancake mix and fresh blueberries all lined up and ready to roll, but when I woke up the clock read 7:15. The bell rings at 8:00. So much for a special first-day-of-school morning, capped off with a meandering walk through the neighborhood, reflecting on the magic of teachers, freshly sharpened pencils and clean blackboards. Maybe it was my subconscious protecting me from a meltdown, but I didn’t have time to think about my youngest soldier going off to 20 some-odd years (from my lips to God’s ears) of pushing paper under florescent light bulbs at a desk too small for him.

In La Jolla, when you drop your Kindergartener off, there are at least 20 parents crowding around the classroom, taking pictures, getting misty eyed. Here in Ithaca, I was the lone hovering weirdo, cooing at poor Sam. A bright-eyed little blonde girl in a perfect braid skipped over to me and announced, “I came to school all by myself!” “You did?” I replied. “Yes, I took the bus and I found the stairs and went on them and here I am!” She did a little jump from her excitement and pride. She stood there looking so earnest and sweet, I could have kissed her…Wendy Gal has a nice ring to it.

Walking out of the school, through empty corridors, I realized there was no “Boo Hoo Breakfast” for the parents. Back in La Jolla (or I should start saying “Oz”), a team of very organized PTA moms has baked fresh muffins, brought table cloths, hot coffee and flavored creamer to provide a welcoming respite so that we shouldn’t feel too sad or lonely on this monumental occasion. I wondered what all the Ithaca moms were doing…something totally productive and practical, I am sure. I couldn’t wait to get home, kick off my shoes, open up the Times, and revel in a totally calm, quiet, empty house…at least until 2:00pm, that is.