I love Meg Ryan's line in "You've Got Mail" when she talks about how fall makes her dream of boquets of sharpened pencils.
Ahhh . . . school days. I love the excitement and activity school days bring. I love it all - until the homework and studying suddenly strikes. But before that, the idea of school is filled with wonder and potential.
I love all the new outfits and backpacks and lunchboxes displayed on the first day of school. I love the extra boxes of Kleenex tucked under scrawny arms and watching all the emotions of brand new experiences wash across little faces. I love the transformation of aging that shows up on the first day of school; the scared little faces of the Kindergarteners clinging to mom's offered hand and the stoic calm of independence and indifference held firmly on the sixth graders' countenances.
It's a study in humanity and I'm in the middle of it, snapping closeups and successfully embarrassing my offspring. It's part of the Mom Code, you know.
Schnickle and Fritz are still young enough to want mom there to wave her goodbyes. Moose wasn't all that interested and wandered over to the soccer field at the first chance he got.
But the first day of school is always bittersweet, cause you're so proud of their growth and so struck by the lightning speed of time. Schnickle is wearing the same size shoes that I wear. Fritz's hand feels like a grown boy when clutched in mine. And before I know it Moose will be joining the backpack-wearing crew headed to higher learning. May I treasure these days. Even the homework.