I am completely astounded that Max starts pre-school tomorrow and Ben starts kindergarten on Wednesday.
I clearly remember my kindergarten teacher. Mrs. Land made us color zig-zag "Indian Borders" around every picture we drew. First, they could never get away with calling them "Indian Borders" today. Second, I hated drawing them. I was not a careful draw-er. I was a fast paced, get the job done, move onto the next center kind of kindergartner. The kind who sometimes was so excited to answer a question, that she forgot to raise her hand. This is probably why I love and adore Ramona Quimby.
I remember when I FINALLY got to push the milk cart to the cafeteria with two classmates and on our trip back to the classroom, the fire alarm went off. A fourth grade teacher led us out to the big kids' playground and kept a close eye on us, until it was safe to return to the building.
I clearly remember my pre-school class. I remember running out to the playground and into the arms of my best friend, Jilly. We would hug and shout with glee and dive into the sandbox. One day Billy Jonas threw sand in my eyes. Another day we went to the pet store and bought an iguana for our class.
But enough about me and my memories.
The point I'm trying to make is that my kids, my precious, hilarious, delicious boys, will remember these days, for their lifetime.
So, I'm feeling the pressure. The pressure to make sure the memories are wonderful. The pressure to step back and let them make their own memories. And the pressure to remember it all for my own memories.
This Pollara Family has come a long way in the past 5 1/2 years. It's been quite a ride.
I can't wait for the adventures to continue.
And now that the sentimental portion of the blog post has been completed. I'd like to now share with you Max's favorite joke:
Knock Knock
Who's there?
Butt
Butt Who
Butt Crack!
