Yesterday was my first day at my new school. All of our effort spent restructuring my life was (hopefully only temporarily) undone and I was rather sleepy in the afternoon and evening mostly because I insisted on waking up in the opening minutes of the 5:00 hour to help my mom with scrambled eggs. By helping, I mean I did all of the work except I let her steam the spinach. (I am determined to be a better chef than Trinity is.) While you may think it is some feat that I can cook the most delicious scrambled eggs in the world, it was a greater accomplishment that we had my dad out of bed and eating a proper breakfast shortly after 6:00am.
Since the only thing predictable about our commute into downtown is that it is going to be miserable and long, we left early and got to school in time to explore the baseball fields across the street. This is a nice way to stretch out after being in the car for an hour+.
With a few minutes to spare, we walked over to the courtyard and, after playing chase with two of my new friends, I sat outside of my classroom door with my hands in my lap (Montessori style, to signify that I am ready).
And off I went. happily.
I was sleepy. But I worked hard and enjoyed the day.
At my new school, the teacher phones every parent every day for the first week. Her version of events largely matched what I told my mom in the time it took me to finish my chocolate croissant in the car before I passed out and didn't awake for three hours. The teacher made some insightful observations about me . . . like that I ask a lot of questions. Did you know that I ask a lot of questions? She says I am working hard to understand the new procedures and how everything fits together. I gravitated toward the materials I am most familiar with (including the geometric solids) and worked with that farm I have been obsessed with all summer.
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