I don't know who ever said his serious face looks like mine. SARCASM.
Today was (finally) the kids' last day of school (finally) so I can (finally) start enjoying summer and (finally) sleeping in and (finally) spending lots and lots of my time doing officially (finally) nothing. Finally.
I'm so frigging tired. I don't remember most of April, May, and June.
Henry's/my mom's class did a little song and dance performance for the parents for the last day of school. Adorable. But I have to say (and only because I want to read it here and remember it someday) that while he was cute and good and very talented in the dance department (wonder where that comes from...?), homeboy does this weird thing when he performs where he STARES ME DOWN. And at first it's like aw, he's looking right at me but honestly, he doesn't usually smile and then it starts to make me squirm a bit because every other kid is looking at the teacher (or, other kids) and he is, like, dancing and also sizing me up for my failures as a mother. Or seeing my secrets. Perhaps I'm making things up. I don't know. I'm sure he's just nervous. I'm sure writing this this makes me a bad mom. I don't mean it to sound like I don't like watching my kid perform. I do. He's awesome. But E and I decided (as we flipped through the 50 or so pics I took today, all of them with Henry staring straight into my soul) that somebody must have told him somewhere along the line to look the audience in the eye. And honestly, he's a good listener, so he's doing it. And honestly, again, that somebody could have been me. So no more complaining.
Henry sang and danced and it was the cutest thing ever, the end. I'm sad he's not a first grader anymore, but this whole kids grow up too fast train is moving waaaaay faster than I can handle, in general. I didn't want to be that mom who was always all oh my god, I miss them being babies. But you guys, I do. I miss those little people who used to live in our house even though these big people are pretty awesome and they get their own breakfast for themselves now.
Addie's teacher encouraged her students to bring squirt guns to school today as long as they were "concealed in backpacks" (I know, RIGHT?), so E took Ad shopping and outfitted her with a battery-powered super soaker last night. He told her to take her brother's clip (you don't even dunk the whole gun anymore--that's so 1995) so she could reload faster. She had a blast (yuk, yuk) and she left school happy, soaked, and ready for 5th grade.