I can't help singing that song or thinking fondly of that commercial on this day every day: the first day of school. Mark doesn't think it's nearly as funny as I do, and I'm guessing he's not alone (I know all the parents were signing it to their kids!)We checked the list posted in the office last weekend to see who Mark's teacher is. There was a little girl and her mom in front of us, and the mom was looking for other familiar names in the class.
"It's all boys!" she fretted. "Here's one--Mark Dins-something. Do you know him? Is he nice?"
Without even turning around, the girl told her mom dryly, "He's standing right behind you, you know." Mark and I cracked up about that all weekend long.
Turns out Mark got a male teacher again, for the fourth year in a row. I was thrilled to have so many great male role models for my son, and I said so to my friend Edra.
"As a single mom, I'm so glad he has a man teacher," I said. Mark completely took that the wrong way, and sneered, "He's married, you know."
It took me a minute to understand what he was saying, and then I answered, "I'm not going to date him! Geez!"
I can tell Mark's growing up, because this morning, he didn't make a big deal out of his first day back. He played it all cool, and I started thinking he really didn't care. Then I noticed both boxes of new shoes out on his floor, which meant he'd thought long and hard over which shoes to wear. And he asked me (nonchalantly) to put on his new shark's tooth necklace, making sure the silver side was showing, since it looked cooler. I realized these tiny, casual acts meant he cared a lot more than he was letting on.
I manage to get a couple good fist-day-of-school photos before he ran off and ditched me.
Since this is also my fifth year walking Mark to school on the first day, I knew what to expect. I kept in step with him the whole way.
As we neared the school, I prepared for him to take off running. I smiled, and out of the corner of my mouth, said, "I want one nice picture in front of the school sign. And I want a smile. If you take a good shot, we can be done in five seconds."
Before he could argue, I added menacingly, "And if you goof around or try to run, I will make a scene and scream, 'Marky, come back! Mommy wants a picture of you by the sign!'"
He sighed and slowed his pace. He knew I'd do it, so he complied.
Then he tried to ditch me. He sped up his pace and headed toward the class without me. But I was ready for that, too.
"Mark, if you try to run, I will make you hold my hand," I said. "Then I'll yell, 'Marky, have fun in school, Mommy wuvs you!' And I'll pretend like I'm crying and hug you too much at the classroom door."
He sighed again, and again, slowed his pace. We walked to class right next to each other.
Mark couldn't wait to get to class. Just as he reached the door, I called him back.
"Have a good day," I whispered, in case any other boys were around. "I love you. Have fun!"
He smiled, glad to hit the safety of his class. He waved and ran into the class, and as the final bell rang, I shook my head and wondered how in the world I have a son in fifth grade.
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