I Hate Endings

The kids brought home one zillion papers from school this week.  There were the usual “Class Memories” books, “Remember Me” books, “My Classmates” books, etc.  Among all the paper I found some gems (and I’m not talking about the safety patrol paper I filled out for Vincenzo that came home in the big mess, clearly not turned in).

Here’s a page from a book Rocco made with his Big Buddy.  I got the impression throughout the year that his Big Buddy might not have been the brightest Big Buddy in the box.

Rocco, in fact, had to stop his Big Buddy from using a gold crayon to color the gold that they supposedly made using their red crayon.

This came off of one of Vincenzo’s papers—I have no idea what it has to do with metaphor, but I love how he so coolly decimates Abraham Lincoln in the hypothetical reading competition:

(Let’s just hope Abe Lincoln doesn’t challenge him to a spelling competition next.)

Vincenzo also wrote an essay about how to survive fourth grade, and I thought it had some good advice in it.  His three pieces of advice were:

1. Never jump off equipment because the teachers don’t like it.
2. Always tie your shoes.
3. Never push your friends, no matter how tempting it is.

Good advice for fourth grade and for life.

I’m feeling overly sentimental about my babies moving on up to the next grades.  Next year Vincenzo will be the oldest in the school and I just feel like bringing him home from the hospital and starting all over again.  I know it’s only fifth grade, but it feels like his senior year to me, and I don’t care if he’s ready for it…I’m not!

Rocco was a baby when I brought him to his first day of kindergarten and now he is this sophisticated little man, reading chapter books and begging for sleepovers and befriending anyone who looks lonely on the playground.  Sometimes it feels like that kid was born with a briefcase in his hand and an extra lollipop in his back pocket.

Next year is my last year with Leo at home for half the day.  My last year spending the afternoon reading picture books in front of the fire and eating grilled cheese sandwiches, then snuggling up in the fire truck bed for an afternoon nap.  I mean, I could still do that when he goes off to kindergarten but I think it would be a bit weird, right?  Or maybe just sad.

I know the time goes fast.  I am painfully aware of how fast it goes.  Knowing that doesn’t make it slow down anymore; it just makes some days harder, like the days when you can actually see time whizzing by you.

Thursday will come and summer will be here and we will be partying in full force and playing Cake by the Ocean on repeat, usually at the ocean, too.  Thursday will be awesome.

But before Thursday I have to get through Wednesday and the kindergarten graduation and the moving-up assembly and the whole “party’s over” feeling that the end of the school year always brings. 

Cue the funeral music.  My kids made it to the next grade.

WHAT’S COOKIN’ 2NITE:
Went out for Vietnamese food

(The kids are in swim lessons in the evening so we are spending a couple fun but expensive weeks exploring all the restaurants around town.)