James' sister has been sick most of this week, throwing plans and schedules out the window. Luckily, no one else has come down with whatever she has.
Luckier still that I read James' communications folder this morning, as I packed up his lunch and assembled his backpack. His teacher asked to have all kids to the playground a little early this evening, so they'd be ready to sing their First Grade songs for Open House night.
Great freakin' monkey tails, I'd completely forgotten all about Open House. Both kids' schools have it on the same night and one was down sick and the other was supposed to perform. My husband had to work late. Shoot me (I've been saying this a lot -- maybe I should change this to "dark chocolate, STAT").
I gave respite a go, but no joy -- too short notice. My mom came down for over an hour to sit with the invalid so I could whoosh through two campuses and school districts, trying desperately to look like a responsible adult who'd planned in advance to enjoy perusing her offsprings' work.
I am so glad it worked out because there was so much to see. I am used to being amazed with the work my daughter has accomplished during her school year. She's deeply explored marine life, reading, math, and reports on local historical figures. Her stories and pictures delight me and her ceramic figures are full of whimsey and personality.
This is the first year that I've been able to do the same with James. It's also my last open house at our little local school that I've become very familiar with over the last four years -- the only school both kids might ever both attend. I am more than a bit sentimental here.
Ah well. Seems so little time has passed since he was having his first Open House as a Kindergartener, wearing his feathered headband and doing the Chicken Dance with the rest of his year:
This year, however, James has been bursting out all over. He kept up with his class in all the songs and dances and stayed with his group. His desk had the same projects on it as the others in the room. He was well represented on the classroom walls and boards. He even took me over to a table to show me what he'd done, just as his classmates were doing.
Oh my heart. I am so proud of him, grateful that he's had such a wonderful teacher this year, and that he's made this last Open House here extra special for me.