Easter Basket

Hippity, hoppity, Easter's on its way!

Peter Cottontail

Couldn't resist drawing you another Easter Bunny. Last year, you asked why the one in the mall had speakers on top of his head. This year, you know why.

You got another report this week and you are doing so well! Of course, math is still your best subject, but you are still doing awesome in every other subject. I am so proud of you!

Easter Egg

After 138 pictures, for the 138 days you have attended school, the inevitable happened: I forgot to make you a picture last night.

And then I lied about it and told you I accidentally put it in my work stuff.

My reasons were honest: you have come to depend on these pictures, to cherish them and even though they rarely make it into your lunch box because you usually buy lunch now; you relish getting to look at them before or right after school. Sometimes I place them in your shirt drawer, sometimes in your backpack; I imagine it's like looking for Easter Eggs. You know this is my special gift to you, that no other mother in your school does this for her son and the thought of admitting to you that I just plum forgot hurts my heart and I knew it would hurt yours; so I did what a mother is supposed to do and I protected my baby. True, there is more to it than that, and I could wax on about WHY it is so important that I don't forget these things, but my guilt and your knowledge are quite enough of a statement, I think.

I Call this the "Oh crud, I didn't make your picture yet!" version of the Easter Bunny

I did this after I had turned off the lights to go to bed. I have every intention of doing a better one before the big day; even if you know the truth about all that stuff now.

The good news is that I picked up brown paper bags after work yesterday, so you got to take your Show and Tell stuff in today (two Ben 10 figures and a kaleidoscope). Now we have 99 brown bags that I'm not sure what to do with. You were a bit nervous about talking in front of the class, so I gave you some totally immature pointers about how to handle your nerves. When you called me after school today and I asked you if Show and Tell was as bad as you thought it would be, you replied, "No, it was badder" and it would have been better if the whole class had to do it.

Oh Christmas Tree

(picture includes bonus: lunch crumbs)

I haven't been able to write, but I've been able to complete the picture end of this deal. The days are getting shorter and before I know it, it's time for you to go to bed and it's almost time for me to go to bed and what has resulted is a mess of hastily scribbled pictures with little to no words to go along with them.

I'm not sure where time is getting off to these days, but I'm sure it has nothing to do with the holidays! the baking! the shopping! And your mother's inability to let a little playground sand sit on the tile floor for one more day (I never thought I would miss the wood chips from your last school). I didn't used to be a neat freak, did you know that? If you were to ask your grandma about my cleaning habits as a teenager, she would tell you that there were days we couldn't open my bathroom door because the clothes were piled up so high behind it. Oh, I was a messy little thing. Now I'm a tidy, not-so-little thing. Trade-offs.

(I'm not calling myself fat. Promise. You've been worried about my perceived self-image lately and though I find it incredibly endearing [you're not fat mommy, so don't even think about saying it!], it says a lot about what I'm teaching you about self esteem. So I'm working on that, k?)

You've done wonderfully at your new school, but were pretty bummed when they postponed the holiday program until spring so that some of the younger kinders have more time to practice their listening and direction following skills. That's what your principal said, but I think your music teacher must have a low tolerance for five and six year olds because I have never heard of the cancellation of a holiday program for bad behavior, ESPECIALLY at this age. You are such a good little listener and rule follower and you just got your first lesson on bad apples and bunches. It's too bad it happened while you were still adjusting and looking for a way to bond with your class.

On the same day that we got the cancellation notice, they tucked a field trip form into your folder; maybe it was a consolation prize. You are going across the street to the high school this week to decorate cookies with the culinary class, but you are NOT looking forward to this because there will be too many girls at the high school (your words). I told you those girls won't chase you, they are more likely to pinch your cute little cheeks, but you aren't buying it.

Gobble Gobble

(sideways - thanks blogger) Turkey's made from my hand and from your hand. We're calling them "lucky" turkeys because they are not part of a feast. It was your last day at your old school, the school that grew on me despite my initial protests and I felt my stomach drop a little as we drove away today.