Second Grade: Not For the Subdued

Jack and Lucy on the big first day

It's six am. Up since five, I'm in the middle of a coughing fit trying to knit my way through another sleepless morning. A door opens, and Jack bursts (Note: the word burst was not chosen for dramatic or comedic effect. The child literally burst.) from his room.

"Coughing!?" he shouts. "Is that what you do for fun when you wake up early, mom!?" Mind you, this is a boy who typically needs someone to stand at the foot of his bed with a bullhorn to pry him from his sleep. Yet this morning, he's awake, and he's on. It must be second grade.

6:02 am Mom, when can we start getting ready?
We've got plenty of time, honey.

6:43 am Mom, is it time to start getting ready yet?
Jack, school doesn't start until 9 o'clock. We've got some time.

7:07 am I should probably start getting ready.
Oh, I think you can relax for a little while.

7:34 am Oh my gosh. It's already 7:34! I'm going to be late if we don't hurry!
Your school is three blocks away, sweetie. We've got some time.

8:06 am Mom...
Jack, why don't you go make your bed and start getting dressed?

* * * *

It's 7 pm. The dinner plates are snuggled into the dishwasher, the dog has taken her rightful place on the couch, and Jack? His knees are tucked up under his tummy, his bottom sticks out with a babyish cuteness. For a moment, he looks like my little boy again, his blonde hair jutting this way and that on the sofa pillow where he sleeps. He's much too old to let me know the day has worn him out, and he's still too young to fight it. It must be second grade.