My little guy started first grade yesterday. In many ways, it was kind of uneventful; after all, he’s done the whole full-day, riding-the-school-bus thing. He knows a few boys in his class and has already met his teacher. So I guess it’s not surprising that he jumped on the bus, found his friends and didn’t even give us a wave as they pulled away.
But for me, first grade feels a little more emotional and – I guess - significant? That’s because I have the most wonderful memories of first grade. I absolutely adored my teacher, Mrs. Sadlier. She was so sweet and lovely and even now, more than 30 years later, I can vividly recall so many moments in that classroom, including art projects, field trips, my Strawberry Shortcake thermos and lunchbox, and the way my friends and I cried our hearts out the last day of school because we were so sad to leave our beloved teacher.
Part of me (well, all of me) is in disbelief that I’m now the mom of a first grader. How can that be? I can only hope my son loves his teacher and has as much of a memorable and special year as I did when I was his age. Enjoy first grade, my sweet boy.