It might not feel like summer is fading behind us with the gorgeous weather we have been experiencing lately, but the transition into fall is most definitely here. Beaches close, school begins, football Sundays take over, and ever so slightly the air and light seem to shift in the direction of the seasonal change. No more lazy mornings; gone is the complicated dance of coordinating which child goes where; and the endless afternoons and evenings spent by the pool watching the kids jump off the the diving board time and again are a distant memory. This school year began with two firsts. One first year in middle school and another entering elementary school for the first time. Actually make that three. I had my first
Hair gel, body spray, deodorant, shampoo, the Axe list goes on and on. With scent names more pornographic than titles on a Marriott adult movie channel, I was left with the chore of smelling each and every stick, spray, and coiffing goop on the shelf until I finally decided on the rather benign sounding and smelling, "Cool Metal". I guess the result is better than the alternative- smelling like a sweaty, barnyard animal wearing rotten gym socks. At least we are ahead of the curve, right? This boy of mine, my middle schooler, he's growing up fast and a list for masculine hygiene products is most certainly a "first".
In Minnesota we ride the school bus. From day one. No "ease into the system with a few morning drop-offs before you get used to the bus" type of situation around here, even if it means a few transitional tears. Surprisingly, the tears were not from the quasi-embarrassing paper name tag they make you wear around your neck stating who you are so that teachers and volunteers can pluck your sad little ass out of a crowd and lead you to the right classroom. They weren't even necessarily because he would rather be with me all day doing "boring Mommy stuff", but rather, those heart breaking, gut wrenching tiny tears were all about THE BUS. It's a big scary thing to a little guy who could use a step stool just to climb into the gigantic vehicle with an outspoken, Grandmotherly driver who booms, "Good morning SWEETHEART!!" as the door swings open. Well, Cooper is lucky because he gets a lot of help in this department. He is the first brother to get a full-on chaperon that not only gives him a pep talk each morning, but holds his hand all the way to the bus stop and sits in the front seat with him so that he doesn't have to be next to the kid that "smells like minnows", whatever that may mean. Christian is Cooper's unwavering protector, "coach", buddy, and idol, and will no doubt be his wing man later in life, with all of that sassy fourth grade chick knowledge under his belt after a week and a half.
