Eleven graduates from the 5th grade next week – and, with that, the Kosiors will be done with elementary school. Of course, I’m happy we are moving to this next chapter because that’s the point, isn’t it; however, it’s hard to reconcile that most of the “childhood” parts of both of my boys’ childhoods are nearing their conclusion and we’re now in the era of deodorant, driver’s licenses, and conversations that begin with, “It doesn’t matter if the door is open or closed, you still can’t have a girl in your bedroom.”
It’s also hard to reconcile that our time with the elementary school staff and the building itself is ending because it’s been such a big part of our lives. When Fourteen started elementary school (last week?), he hung his little backpack up on his little hook with his little name on it, said, “Bye, Mommy!” and walked confidently into the room while I burst into tears and had to be consoled by his Kindergarten teacher right there in the hallway. I was a lot smarter when Eleven started school (also last week?); I shoved him through the front doors and ran back to my car so I could sob in the privacy of my Honda.
Next week, we’ll celebrate the conclusion of Eleven’s 5th grade year with a donut social and graduation ceremony, and then we’ll toss the dregs of his desk into his backpack and that’ll be it. Goodbye, elementary school.
Goodbye, snack time. Goodbye, lovingly peeling oranges and cutting up strawberries into reusable containers only to find out that 1) your kid never ate the fruit, and 2) he also threw away the container by accident. Goodbye, standing in the grocery store reading the teeny-tiny print on a package of cheese and pretzels to determine if it has nuts in it. And goodbye, giant boxes of Goldfish, purchased by Kyle in bulk to help fill the school’s communal snack pantry for children who came without; if your kid pooped orange at any point over the last decade, I’m sorry.
Goodbye, construction paper folders full of work handed out at parent-teacher conferences. Goodbye, poems about freedom and artwork made of Popsicle sticks and cotton balls. Goodbye, letters that read, “Dear Mom and Dad, my favorite school subject is lunch gym reading.” Goodbye, sitting in those child-sized classroom chairs listening to an adult who cares about your kid almost as much as you do tell you how amazing and smart said kid is, and maybe they could work on keeping their desk clean this next quarter. Goodbye, grades given on a 1 (developing), 2 (meeting), 3 (exceeding) scale and behavior noted with a minus, forward-slash, or plus. And goodbye, rewarding those grades – even though “Raises his hand before speaking” has never had a plus – with books from the Scholastic Book Fair.
Goodbye, 15-minute orchestra, band, and choir concerts. Goodbye, school dances with glowsticks and light-up rings. Goodbye, living museums. Goodbye Turkey Bingo, and Flocking Flamingos, and Cook’s Night Out. Goodbye, emails from the teachers that read, “The students met their Good Listening goal this quarter and so we are going to celebrate with a movie and a pajama day!” And goodbye, Kyle chaperoning a school field trip and ignoring the field trip rules and instead making up his own rules, leading to a scolding – but a nice scolding, because it’s elementary school – by a teacher.
Goodbye, teacher hugs. Goodbye, hallway lost-and-found covered in sweatshirts, winter beanies, and water bottles. Goodbye, starting the morning with the Pledge of Allegiance, Wordle, and weather forecast. Goodbye, monthly assemblies where the teachers and administrators dress up like the characters in the Wizard of Oz and go in search of character traits like Empathy and melt the witch with Kindness. Goodbye, going to the nurse for “feeling sad about a tummy ache.” And goodbye, school lunches for parents (click here to read my first and only experience).
Goodbye chaotic drop-off line. Goodbye, parents who feel the need to wait until they are at the front of the line to have a long and detailed conversation with their child before they get out and then getting out themselves to open said child’s door and then watching the same child walk five steps into the school before getting back into their car and driving away. Goodbye, the anxiety of trying to decide if you should drive around those people so your own kid can get to school on time or else let them off in the middle of a drop-off lane/parking lot where it seems like no one is paying attention because they are all hyper-focused on the lady getting out of her car and putting a backpack on a3rd grader and why didn’t you just leave the house earlier, tomorrow you’ll leave earlier. Goodbye, wishful thinking that tomorrow you’ll be earlier.
And goodbye, morning conversations in the car on the way to school with both of your children, since next year the older one will be driving himself and the younger will soon stop talking to you and instead play on his phone like his fellow teenagers are wont to do. And then, at some point, the older will drive the younger, and that’ll be that.
Goodbye, helpers who hold the doors in the morning and high-five as many children as they can as they walk inside. Goodbye, orchestra directors who cry with pride during the final concert of the year. Goodbye, lunch ladies who do God’s work trying to get one single carrot stick or orange slice into these damn children. Goodbye, student teachers and paras. Goodbye, PTO moms and dads who act on behalf of all of us without any smidgen of thanks. And goodbye to the fellow parents we pass in the halls at conferences, Turkey Bingos, school dances, orchestra, band, and choir concerts, living museums, open houses, and end-of-school celebrations; we’ll only see you in the real world now (and at middle school registration; click here for that situation).
Goodbye, wonderful teachers. Goodbye, wonderful school secretaries. Goodbye, wonderful principal. I hope my children remember you with the same love I have for my own elementary school grown-ups. I know Kyle and I will.
The photo above is of yours truly on her own first day of school.
This week on North Dakota Today, we talked about Judy Bakken, my Nice Person of the Week, as well as a new club for people who want to…darn it!. (Valley News Live)
Here’s the first paragraph of my recent column in the Grand Forks Herald; click here for the whole thing:
Jakob Kehrwald is 16 years old and a junior at Red River High School. When he turns 17 in June, he will celebrate with 7,000 of his fellow students from across the country — because Jakob will be one of two North Dakotans to take the stage for the debate competition at the National Speech and Debate Tournament in Richmond, Virginia. (Grand Forks Herald)
And click here for a few of the events happening across North Dakota this week. (TikTok)
Surfer Ben Gravy caught a wave in North Dakota. (The Inertia)
Meet the Minot Hot Tots Kids Choice finalists. (Facebook)
If you want to do a little North Dakota Nice yourself, a bookseller in Fargo lost his home to a fire but is keeping his bookstore open to raise funds for a new home. (Valley News Live)
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