Growing Up

Last night, after our 3 hour ENT doc appointment (with accompanying x-rays... not easy with a toddler), Bret, Grant and I headed to the Calvary Learning Academy Open House. Grant will be heading to a Mom's day out program on Thursday mornings. Our rationale is that our dear and loving son needs some social skills, and one day of week of Sunday school isn't helping his constant kissing of his peers.

So, the local Methodist church has quite a Mom's day out program, complete with a pre-preschool curriculum. We realized we were in for a whirlwind upon arrival, as every kid in the whole program swarmed around us. Grant was in toddler ecstasy. We grabbed our informational packet, filled out our health forms, dropped off our classroom supplies, and picked up our snack schedule. But then, we needed to bolt. It was chaos. Not bad chaos akin to "why would I send my kid here," but chaos of the "I'm glad the class size is limited to 10" variety. Grant sobbed. He was so upset that we had to leave all those toys and all those kids. Great first impression.

Off we went to buy Grant a lunch box--a Thomas the Train lunch box. He carried that lunch box around the house for the rest of the evening. I have a serious lunch box philosophy that comes from the absolutely lame lunches I had as a kid. My mom, who tried her single-mom hardest, was a perfect mom... except when it came to lunches. What kid has bell pepper slices, a sandwich that isn't cut in half, and an orange (not peeled, not cut into wedges.. but) cut in half? Don't get me started on the large carrot, sometimes unpeeled, complete with green stems still in place. I never got a cool Capri-Sun or even a juice box. It was white milk for me. Nothing was ever cool--much less trade-able--in my lunch.

So, Grant, don't you worry. Mommy is going to take special pride in your lunch box. While I'm committed to lunch box packing greatness, I can't believe I'm even packing a lunch for my son. He's growing up so quickly. Because we haven't had to do the whole day care scene, this little program is a great deal of firsts for us: the first "these are the people who can pick up my child" form, the first Christmas program, the "bring a blanket for nap time" request.

I'll post pictures on Thursday of Grant's first day of school. I'll by crying behind the camera, but I know Grant is going to love every minute of, what he calls, "shool."