(Well, “half week” given that we only started on Wednesday.)

I need to tell you – I am so freaking proud of my kids right now. If I think back to my own junior high/high school days and imagine trying to negotiate all of that jockeying for position and crushes on Sheldon W and fear of not having the coolest slouch socks while ALSO being “the new kid,” my heart literally starts palpitating.

The closest thing I’ve ever had to a “new school” was walking an extra two blocks past the elementary school to the junior high where I had to get to know students from the other two small-town elementary schools. I’ve experienced a ton of guilt and anxiety these past months wondering “holy cow, what have I done, how dare I rip my kids from the loving arms of their friends and beloved (and not so beloved) teachers and thrust them into the cold, dark terror of NEW.SCHOOL.”

And yet. Despite a few sleepless nights, The Girl totally brought it. So far she’s figured out where all her classes are (didn’t get lost once!), where the bathrooms are, and where to eat lunch. She’s chatted with classmates, figured out end-of-semester game plans with teachers, and looked into some clubs. She even upped her cool factor with some meta attire:

Astonishing, yes?

The Boy has an equally strong “I’m the new kid and I don’t care” game. The Husband took him in for his first day and walked him to his classroom. The Boy turned to him and said, “don’t worry Dad, I’ve got this” and breezed on in. When he gets home each day we ask anxiously, “so?? How was it?”

“Fine.”

“That’s it?”

“Yep. Fine. I’m making a putt-putt in woodshop. And I dominated in floor hockey at recess.”

(He is hilarious. The guidance counselor told him on his first day that if he hadn’t found someone to eat lunch with by the end of the week, she’d be happy to sit with him. He considered that a threat vs. a promise, so yesterday he marched up to a kid in one of his classes and said, “hey, can I sit here?” And sho nuff, he now has lunch buddies. Heaven forfend he’d have to sit with the guidance counselor.)

We’ve also figured out the transportation, too. We live only a mile from the high school, so The Girl gets to walk (just think of the stories she can now tell her children – “a mile each way! uphill! in a blizzard!”). The Boy’s school is farther, but the bus stop is a block over and he’s already made arrangements to walk to the stop/sit with a kid down the street.

Resilience, thy  name is children. Truly, I’m astonished and grateful and kinda waiting for the other shoe to drop. This first week was beyond anything I could even have hoped for.