School

I don't have enough time to do justice to Bry's first week of preschool, so I'll just throw some pictures and sentences out and see what comes of it. Last year, I started the tradition of first day of school pictures, a practice which is sure to grate on Bry by the time he gets to junior high, but for now, is fun. This is what he looked like on his first day last year:


And this year:

I'm tolerating this picture thing, for now.

But I'm not gonna sit still for you.

He's like, a whole year older and everything.

So far, a week into things, all appears to be well. He cried a couple of days when Steve dropped him off, but according to his teachers, he's been coming out of his shell bit by bit. They told us about how he played on the "train" at Van Cleve Park, shouting out destinations, while a classmate, Colin, provided the soundtrack: "Toot toot!" and about how he updated everyone on the trucks that visited our block following the tornado last week. He was engrossed in a round of "If You're Happy and You Know It!" one day when Steve picked him up. We brought parsley from our garden for Miguel, the class guinea pig, whom Bry sometimes mistakenly calls a "guinea bunny."

Our kiddo, a preschooler. It still boggles the mind.