a certain smallish someone began her educational career today.
[do not believe that face for a minute; she was perfectly giddy about cubbies and mrs. wilhelm and popcorn and pink erasers.]
we stepped outside at ten till seven to grab a few photos, but the sky was pitching a fit and hurling white-hot bolts to the earth, so we promptly stepped back inside. [you can't tell so much since i cranked up the iso, but it was wicked dark out there.]
elle and her olderish brothers guttled pancakes and milk, scrubbed their pearly whites, and wrestled cowlicks into place. they velcroed shoes and slid into backpacks and bounced around the front door with nervous happiness.
and as the sky split and dropped a river of rain, we saw all four kiddos safely onto their sturdy buses.
in case you were taking bets, i didn't cry, but i did miss them all today. every now and again the stillness startled me, and i had to think about where all the quiet was coming from.
right. public education.
but i worked on orders and editing and before i knew it, the clock hit 2:40 and i hiked up the street to meet my littles.
the day was good to them.
[and despite all evidence to the contrary, even He Who Shall Not Be Photographed had a smashing first day of fourth grade.]