Whoever decided that August 20th was a reasonable day for children to return to school has forgotten how much fun it is to be a kid in the summer. Alas, I alone cannot decide when it's time to re-commence the adventure of formal education, or at least the condemnation of six hours of seatwork so last Wednesday my little chickens returned to their institutes of learning. For Owen it was his first day of kindergarten. He's slipped in under the radar since he's still only 4. (Actually he's safely before the cut-off date of Sept. 1st; his birthday is---tomorrow, but I just like using that expression 'under the radar') Madi's out to conquer 6th grade and Harry's happily into 3rd with one of his favorite teachers from last year.

This seems really uncool to admit but I'm one of those moms who rather enjoys having my children home for the summer and relish MOST days of them trundling about underfoot. I like summer reading, lemonade stands, bike rides to the park, soccer, swimming lessons, unexpected science experiments, art projects, mud cookies, letterboxing, scrabble tournaments and all the other surreptitious occurences that seem to materialize when the weather's warm and no one really has to be somewhere at a certain time. Sometimes we just talk and sometimes we just yell but stuff happens and things are said when life isn't just about what has to happen. It's a lovely turn of events to see how children behave when the pressure is off. After years of gaps in their maturity and interests Madi and Harry discovered their friendship hiding behind rivalry. Owen discovered Elliott and I think they all discovered how cool it is to have one another. I know I'm jealous as only an only child can be. I still can't escape the summer without feeling that we didn't do enough of any of the above but I think we did the summer mostly with style.

So, here they are clad in their new school duds, ready to impress or maybe to be impressed. They're perhaps more thrilled to go to school on this day than they will be for the rest of the year. I still consider the je ne sais quoi aroma of new pencils, erasers and crayons mingled together in my pencil box to be a thrilling portent of good things to come; a new friend to make, a crush to develop, cursive to learn, Shel Silverstein to discover, encyclopedias to crack open, mastery of the monkey bars, and with trepidation, the hope of growing up just a little bit more. So to all the vicissitudes that a new school year holds---here's to my chickens! In their words---'You Rock!'