School Days In The Land of The Lost

I am at peace. I am calm as a cucumber, cool and collected, self-possessed and curiously composed. The usual dramatics – some (John) might even suggest expected hysteria – did not occur this morning for the second year in a row. If I could take credit, I would, attributing good behavior of the present as remedy to the bad in the past, but really it has a lot to do with this.

It was with pure parental bliss that I swept the covers off of me this morning, pounced like Tigger out of bed and skipped down the hallway to my children’s bedrooms all the while singing “Oh happy day!”

It was the first day of school and I could not have been happier. In fact, It was such a delightful morning that I thought it especially important to capture the cheerful expressions of my eager little students as they embraced their school year with hearts overflowing with joy.



The first bedroom I came to belonged to my little ray of sunshine, Mary Mac. After turning on her bedside lamp, I leaned in close to my daughter’s ear and whispered that it was time to get ready for her very first day of kindergarten.

“Aren’t you so excited?” I exclaimed.

“Go away! It’s still dark outside. I can’t open my eyes in the dark!” my delicate flower responded. I think my camera flash contributed to the aggravation.



The next bedroom belonged to both of my sons. Without changing my routine, but now singing Kool and the Gang’s “Celebration”, I turned on the lamp, and cheerfully announced to both Chase and Chandler, “Boys, it’s that time of the year! Time to get up and get ready for your first day of school!”

Chandler wearily sat up in his bed, eerily similar to an old school Sleestak from the television show Land of the Lost, and informed me that I was burning the eyes out of his head with my camera.



The first day of school paparazzi woke up Chase as well, who oddly seemed to be channeling a Sleestak like his younger brother.



“Seriously, mom? Can you give the camera a rest?”



After showers and breakfast - and confiscation of the camera from my husband - moods turned a little more agreeable. My children even allowed a few more pictures before they loaded into the car with new backpacks and lunch boxes, shiny teeth and combed hair.



After dropping off each of the children, I happily texted my good friend, Mandy, whose four children attend the same school as mine:

My text: “Yippppeeee!”

Her responding text: “Woooohoooooo!”

My concluding text: “Yabba Dabba Dooooo!”

And then I cried all the way home.