Land o'Lessa

You know, I’m working really really REALLY HARD to not realize that he’s graduating in May, that he turns 18 in March, that he’s Practically A Grown Up and my parental control will not be near as controlling as I’d like it to be for my little boy forever and ever amen. I’m TRYING to put blinders on – but OH NO. He has to go and do things like… oh, brandish his new Class Ring all over the place.

Harumph.

It came in the mail last week, and the boy couldn’t be more pleased! Even so, I love how the photo of his hand describes so many things about my son. For example:

1. His hands are HUGE. They swallow mine, and I have big hands for a girl!

2. His hand is DIRTY. Dude. Could you BE more of a boy? Wash your hands!

3. He’s cracked his knuckle there on something, and in typical boy fashion, keeps picking at it. Srsly Boy? Gross. And also? WASH YOUR HANDS.

4. Look at all the nicks and scars – this boy is CLUMSY. Usually with sharp and pointy things.

5. Those hands are not just large, but strong, just as strong as the heart and mind of my PRESHUSH BEBE BOY. They are hands that he uses to help up a friend in need, hands he uses to help make something work that was broken, hands he uses to defend his friends, hands he uses to protect his sisters, hands he uses to console his poor mama who’s not handling this growing up thing very well.

Sigh. This growing up stuff sucks.

Since this morning’s 8th Grade Farewell, I am now officially the mother of TWO high-schoolers! How the hell does this shit happen? SERIOUSLY?

But I was up and showered and at the school at 8 freakin am this morning (SEE HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU, CHILD?) to watch my middle child, my oldest daughter, perform in her final band and choir performances of her Jr. High Career, and to watch her walk across the Transition Stage where the 8th grader becomes the Freshman.

Awwww. (Note the change in ribbon color – from Kosack Purple and Gold to Kardnial Red and Black)

And I’ve a lot of blurry photos to prove it! Mainly because I was too far from the stage – it’d be to easy to put the stage in the center of the gym, right? Right. Harumph.

But, here you go! The Class of 2012! (…o.m.g!)

And the students firmly believe that Transition isn’t complete without the Hug from Summer. Mr. Summer is the favorite teacher – he’s repeatedly asked to give the speech at the farewells – and he ONLY gives hugs at the Farewell. Not ever through the year, only that last day. So, my girl (And most everyone else) got her hug, and feels that she’s now officially graduated.

The difference between my son and daughter during this occasion? My son asked that I stay for the talent show and slide show, and thus I spent the majority of the day with him at the school. The Girl? Shoo’d me off as soon as the cake was eaten! “See ya later mom, ya don’t have to stay!” and off she ran with her gaggle of girlfriends! Harumph. Kids.