First day of school for my lanky 2nd grader. He has been aching to get back for the last couple of weeks. I'm not sure there has ever been a child happier to head to school. He was born for school.
I'm also incredibly proud of him and of myself today. Him, because he is so confidently his own person. He asked me last night to paint his nails, and chose this fantastic hot pink color rather than the usual blue or green. Me, because I didn't let my familiarity with the gendered hangups of the world get in the way of allowing him to make his own choice, and because I did gently talk to him about some teasing he experienced a few weeks ago, so that I knew he was making a relatively informed choice. And him again, because he told me that when people tease him, he feels like they should talk to the girls from his kindergarten class (who thought his nail polish was awesome) and that it's like he's holding up a weight and they put more weight on him, and it's harder to carry for a moment but then he lifts it up. Oh, goodness. This child has so much to teach me. This sweet, sweet boy.
His brothers and I chilled out at home today and then after picking him up with his dad (who had a half-day), we headed out for a treat. My proposal: the newish Sweet 95, a little stand that sells ice cream made from local-ish hormone-free milk. The setting was perfect, the weather was beautiful, and the ice cream was divine.
