I am having a hard time grasping the concept that this little guy:
who grew into this little guy:
and then - and I swear that this only occurred yesterday, or perhaps the day before - started elementary school:
is soon to be a middle-schooler. And, shortly after that, a teenager.
We registered him a week ago Thursday in his "program of choice," which, fortunately, also chose him. I thought that, having birthed two boys, I would never again have to live through the drama of sorority rush - so it was somewhat of an ironic surprise to have spent the better part of the last two months worrying about application packets and the age-old dilemma of "to suicide [pref only one choice] or not to suicide?" Would he be cross-cut if he ranked more than one program? Did I really just use the term "cross-cut" in the context of a middle school application?
Then his letter from the district did not arrive. Based on empirical evidence (from Facebook), everyone in the free world had received either a "yes" or a "no" letter. We had not received a letter of either type - which was weird, because we live MAYBE a half mile from district headquarters. One day stretched into two, two stretched into three. I started to worry that they had misplaced his application - and sweet husband reminded me that he walked the application through central administration, leaving with a date-stamped receipt. What if the application wasn't complete? Date-stamped receipt included a certification that the application had been checked and all required elements were present and accounted for.
We finally called and received confirmation that he had been awarded a slot in his first choice, the Academy of Arts and Sciences program. We had a celebratory dinner with my parents and grandmother. And then the real fun began. Let's call it "proof of life, part deux": having just had to demonstrate the smaller fry's existence as part of kindergarten enrollment, now I found myself starting the process over with the bigger fry. I understand that, in this day and age (and in this part of the country), they need to document that he is an American citizen, and I also understand that they need to confirm that he is a district resident. I also conceptually grasp the need to do all of this RIGHT NOW - because if he is a pretender to the throne, they will want to offer his slot to a wait-listed student sooner rather than later. Yeah, I get all of that. NEVERTHELESS - particularly after NOT timely receiving an acceptance letter (it came eventually) - it was a bit jarring to get a letter mid-Spring Break advising that we needed to be at the middle school, within a certain (highly inconvenient) time frame on a date ONE SHORT WEEK AWAY, packing every blessed piece of paper on the kid that is in existence, all in original form (but with copies in hand). Otherwise, we were toast.
Miraculously, I found his original birth certificate and Social Security paperwork after a blessedly short search. We requisitioned the shot record from the pediatrician - but it was an electronic print-out, Would that constitute an original? Were they looking for something handwritten and signed? We had that, once upon a time, but then the doctor switched to computerized records, so the complete shot record is the electronic one.
Recent utility bill? Check. Last report card - and standardized test scores? DO THEY EVEN SEND THOSE HOME? Answer: no. We had to get them from his school. Which, you know, I'm fairly confident that the district could have done. It's called INTEROFFICE MAIL. And what we got - most definitely a printout. "Original" totally indistinguishable from a copy.
Spouse told me to take a chill pill. So I did - and then I copied my driver's license, because they would need that for his file, as well.
Good thing that I love my baby so much. Or, you know, my not-so-much-a-baby.