Monday, September 8, 2014

School Days

Sometimes it seems as though I can look back at my whole youth simply by watching my grandchildren. They range in age from three to sixteen. And school has begun. What they’re going through now draws a slew of memories from somewhere deep in my little gray cells.

The three-year-old, Sierra, starts pre-school tomorrow. Truth be told, Sunday School was my pre-school and I remember little of it. But they do things these days that my generation had to wait until kindergarten to do. Play with wooden blocks, sit in a circle on the rug, sticks and triangles at music time and of course, recess. They sing the days of the week and examine the weather, go on field trips. Nice.

I remember getting my first pair of glasses when I was six, the same age as Melodi is now. She’s off to first grade this year. She’ll be at a desk learning to read, write and cipher (oops, I mean, do math). She learned some of that in kindergarten already. These kids are so advanced nowadays.

Speaking of glasses, Anna, who’s nine,  got hers over the summer. She looks like an American Girl doll in them, adorable. I’m glad glasses are fashionable and no one will call her “four eyes” like they did me.  It’s her first year in private school and she’s already made friends. One thing she confessed to me.

“My locker is right across the hall from the classroom door.”

“That’s good,” I said watching her face.

“Yeah, I don’t have to go down the hall and around the corner and maybe get all confused.”

She echoed my fears from long ago when I first got a locker – in seventh grade.

Lillie, ten, will be riding the same bus as her big sister, Elaina, sixteen. There’s six years between them and a small bone of contention arose when they realized they’d be together. Little sister hogging the conversation with big sister’s friends makes for some tension. I gave them some grandmotherly advise along the lines of “your sister will be with you for the next 50 – 60 years and your friends will disappear after high school.” I don’t know if it hit home, but it’s true for me. My sisters and I are closer than two ply toilet paper and I have no idea where any of my friends from high school are.

And Sam. I always tell him he’s my favorite grandson and he always says, “I’m your ONLY grandson.” But he grins when he says it. He’s dropping his saxophone playing this year. Too much mandatory practice time – 140 minutes a week. So he’ll be in chorus. Yay! I dropped viola in favor of chorus and I’m still singing. Of course he could do like his uncle Carl and simply mouth “ham and eggs,  ham and eggs” at his first concert, but I’m not going to tell him that story.

School days. Wonderful times. Bless you my grandchildren. May all go well this year.  

Image: debspoons                                              Free Digital Photos


  1. Yes, a huge step here, too. School bus returning, boys one grade up, and Mother missing 'em.

    But someone's running again, and that makes me terribly happy. I'm a professional yeller at cross-country meets. Just sayin'. :D

    1. There's an up side to it all, isn't there? Enjoy these years, they fly by.