So last night was move-up night. At Cal's school, upper school covers 10th, 11th and 12th grade, so as a 9th grader, Cal has been in his last year of middle school this year.
It's exciting to hear about the changes that will take place as Cal moves into upper school. More freedom, more responsibility. More electives. More choices. More of everything. Good stuff, but daunting too as we face the prospect of college down the not-too-distant pike.
As we were walking in, we ran into the woman who'd been his 2nd grade teacher at another school, and it struck me then how funny school can be. How distinct the passage of time is, marked so specifically, year by year. And how nice it was to be there, walking in to face his 10th grade year with all his past years strung out behind him. Some of those years were not so great. Second grade was a good one.
This year has been good too, but always around April, I'm ready for summer. I told a friend of mine, another mom, that I think summer vacation should pretty much start the day after spring break, but I get restless like that. And if I'm feeling restless, how must it feel to this kid who drove us to school last night? My big kid. Flying high.