Bus Ride to a Whole New World

Yesterday was a great milestone in The History of the Two Lads, for Young Daniel embarked on his first day in the First Grade.

In addition to meaning that Daniel has entered the officialdom of the mainstream childhood years, and a full-fledged academic institution, it also means that he and Ian, for the first time ever, are colleagues and fellow-scholars.  This morning, the boys waited for their first shared school-bus, under the big oak tree on the front lawn - for shelter from the mild, sporadic rain - in their matching red rain-coats-with-hoods, along with Mommy, Daddy and both dogs.  Their contemporary and neighbor across the street, Alec, was similarly waiting on his side of the road, and his mother felt bad that she wasn't taking pictures for Alec.  I made the consoling distinction that this was a pixel-compelling milestone for Daniel, who was only starting elementary school today, implying that Alec, like Ian, were enrolled at the school last year as well.  Ummi-Alec, if you will, Alec's Mom, seemed to have internalized this soothing nuance.

This is a week of somewhat daunting comings-of-age, for the same chapter of history.  The Train Room - yes, a room all by itself - was transformed into The Book Room, as a gigantic bookshelf that Amy bought on Craig's List, entered our home and supplanted the Great Octagonal Train Table which occupied the center of this small room.  The Train Table is now in the basement, although in the semi-finished room in the basement, which affords it a dignity which many props of childhood have not enjoyed amidst their red-or-blue-crate-enclosed tenure in the big, unfinished room of the basement - that part of the basement which is truly a cellar.  Historians may note that The Train Room in The New House was on the first-floor, just off from the dining room; in the Good House that we lived in before we were compelled to by the current pretender, the Train Room was merely in the basement - although a much more finished, "true" Basement.  But here, in the current house, Train Room was sufficiently central to our consciousness to warrant its own place on the ground floor.

One moving thing about The Good House - as I call it, although Amy has never adopted this term:  Amy says that the big thing about that House which causes the boys, like me, to have a special, preferential fondness for it, is that they remember playing with trains in the basement with me in the evenings.  The boys also have fond memories of its split-level architecture, and have talked about how neat it was to have the front door in the middle of the stairs going toward the basement.  I don't think Amy particularly cherished this  distinguished feature, but not everybody loves architecture.

So the lads finally crossed over to Alec's side of the street, where the bus actually stops, and we all waited on his lawn.  When the bus arrived, the Lads mounted those big steps together, and sat not just as brothers, but also as bus-buddies, side by side in a single seat, bringing a burst of cheerful Raincoat Red to the bus interior.  It was really enormously cute to see them sitting together on the bus. I think Ian is especially pleased to be in a position to initiate Daniel into the wealth of his beloved school's culture.  I think everyone enjoyed Daniel making his rounds, with the family, at fall orientation the other day.  During last Spring's initial orientation, he was positively giddy, guiding Daniel swiftly through the corridors to discover this labyrinth of riches.

Amy is confident that the introduction of the full-day grade-school routine will be very good for Daniel, who, she says, gets really bored at home and will benefit from this degree of institutional engagement.  That thought makes it almost okay that two out of three of my babies are now full-fledged Pupils.

(August 28, 2012)