A-B-C! Easy as 1-2-3!

Ellie is a kindergartner.  Terrifying.  She started a couple of weeks ago and things seem to be going well, sort of.  She's in uniforms, which is both convenient and adorable.  Exhibits A and B:

 Here's what she likes about kindergarten:  recess, lunch (as long as they're serving grilled cheese, tacos are a no-go...hard shells, boooooo!), art, PE, music.  Here's what she doesn't like about kindergarten:  getting up early, going to bed early, that mean second grader on the bus, hard shell tacos (see above), rules.

All in all, pretty reasonable.  She is getting into the swing of things, but she's never going to like mornings.  To cut down on it a little, we've incorporated sponge rollers into our nighttime routine to ease the morning prep.  I will admit, she is adorable in sponge rollers in a Frenchy from Grease kind of way:

We try to get intel out of her every night at dinner on how her day went.  Mostly she just gives a run down of who got in trouble and why, or what she needs to do to win the next prize being offered.  For instance, I know Kevin* with a "K" got his clothespin put on blue yesterday and was not able to play at recess.  That's bad.  Ellie almost got on blue, but only because she was soooooo tired from getting up so early that she couldn't listen right.  Kindergarten should start later.  But if she keeps from getting on blue the rest of the week she can get a prize out of the treasure chest.  Also, if she sells enough wrapping paper**, she gets to go in the money tank.  If she gets money in the money tank she's going to buy a new pillow pet, or maybe a puppy.

It seems to be going well or as well as kindergarten with all its minefields can go.  In the meantime, Harry went back to preschool.  It's. Killing. Me.  He did great days one through four.  On day five he clung to me.  Sobbed as I left.  Generally broke my heart.  This continued on day six and day seven.  On day eight, as soon as we pulled into the school parking lot he did this:

He was defeated.  He walked in like he was heading to the gallows.  He sat with a long, sad face and whispered "bye-bye mama."  I almost couldn't make it to work.  I was thinking home schooling might be a good option.  But, as I should have figured, yesterday he ran to his classroom and hugged the teacher.  Today, he hopped out of the car, refused to hold my hand and grabbed the first dump truck he saw upon entry.  I didn't even get a glance goodbye.  You know, home schooling might be good.

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent, and the not so innocent.
**Anyone need any wrapping paper?