Yesterday was the first day of school. Logan headed into school with a shiny new backpack, new shoes, and hope for a great year in the 3rd grade. I was on pins and needles all day. I couldn’t wait to hear his report of the day. As soon as he got in the car after daycare, I launched my assault. Questions and queries flew at him faster than he could respond or dodge. I wish I could have been a fly on the classroom wall to watch him throughout the day. While Logan patiently answered “mom questions”, Jack kept interrupting by shouting “BAAAAA!” Still, the information gathering continued. When we pulled up at the house, Trey joined in the attack. “Who did you play with a recess?” “How do you like your new teacher?” “How much of the teaching did the teacher do and how much did the student teacher do?” “Is so & so in your class this year?” “Did you behave?” “What did you eat for lunch?” … He humored us with answers, patiently redirected Jack’s ongoing “BAAAAA”-ing, and provided additional minimal details of his day before rushing back out of the house for soccer practice.
While Trey and Logan were at practice and Jack was busy playing and yelling “BAAAA!”, I decided to stay on top of chores this year. At the risk of being too organized or productive, I declared it was time to clean out Logan’s backpack from 2nd grade. Inside his old backpack was a virtual time capsule of the previous school year. I reflected on his (mostly) good behavior as I thumbed through his behavior folder and shook my head at the hoard of erasers in the inside pocket.
That is when things got weird.
Among the discoveries was an essay he had written titled: How to be an Outstanding Soccer Player Like Me. The essay was well structured, had excellent spelling and punctuation, but was in no way humble. If there were an “American Idol” show for aspiring soccer players, I fear Logan would be the one prompting tweets like “Clearly his parents only talked him up and never confronted him with reality.” or “This kid might be delusional!?”
I also found a love letter to me! I’m certain I’m nearing the end of the years in which I’ll find sweet crayon masterpieces in my honor. (Ahem…there was also a love letter to someone else but I’ll allow the kid a tiny bit of privacy in that matter. At least my love letter included rainbows and hearts. Hers just had hearts and dumb ol’ flowers.)
How and why the kid was carrying around 5 year books is beyond my understanding. Only 3 of the year books were his own, the rest being from Trey’s junior high years.
In addition to the heavy year books, Logan had squirreled away 7 chapter books. I can’t fault him for this practice. I ALWAYS have at least my Kindle on my person but often carry 1 or 2 or 7 other books as well. He’s my kid!
In the same pocket as his eraser hoard, Logan had 15 of Trey’s business cards. I’m unsure if he was trying to find new sale possibilities for the pipeline or planned to make throwing stars out of the cards.
Perhaps my favorite find in the depths of the backpack was an orange paper in which Logan had stretched his critical thinking skills by brainstorming classifications. On one side, he had written “Dads” on the top and listed things “nice” dads do and things “mean” dads do. Apparently “nice” dads make dinner and kiss their kids good night. Mean dads give spankings, yell, and say no. “Nice” moms kiss their kids good night, smiles, say yes, and buy their children stuff. This list for “mean” moms was longer than any other category and I will purposely neglect to include what these horrible people do because I’m clearly NOT one of them!?
I could gush on and on about how much I love my kids but anyone who knows me knows this fact. I could also go on and on about how excited I am for each new year and stage but I’m pretty certain I’ve already written that blog entry. Instead, I’ll say that I’m glad I’m documenting the contents of the 2nd grade backpack and can’t wait to compare/contrast each year. I originally intended to donate his old bag but after going through all of the contents, I couldn’t let it go just yet. For the time being, it is tucked in a cabinet for another use. As I cleared the table and put the backpack away, I realized I hadn’t heard Jack’s little voice in a couple minutes. I found him around the corner wearing his Daniel Tiger ears and playing with a toy. I ask him “Jack, can you believe Logan is in 3rd grade?!” He replied, “I not Jack! I goat! BAAAA!” Perhaps Jack will want to use Logan’s old backpack when he is in 2nd grade? Goodness knows what we’ll find in that crazy critter’s bag!?