Movin' On Up

School’s out. There was a brunch yesterday for the fifth-graders and their parents, and then the Moving Up Day ceremony at which The Boy received a medal for winning the Math Olympiad (my kid’s a math-lete!) and a certificate for his News Bowl team’s 2nd place finish in the state’s current events competition. He’s officially out of the Lower School, where he spent the seven years from pre-K though 5th grade, and into Middle School, where he will change classes, have study halls and electives, play on the school soccer and basketball teams, and get to go to dances.

He’s excited and apprehensive about Middle School, but he’s also sad about leaving 5th grade. He has his first male teacher this year, and he loved Mr. S. (a totally cool and very traditional Pittsburgh guy, who happily wore Steeler ties with his short-sleeved button downs and always seemed to need a haircut) more than he’d loved any teacher since the sweet, cozy ladies in pre-K. The Boy is also sorry to be leaving Mr. R., the accelerated math teacher. I still have no idea how the man with the incredibly soft, soggy handshake was able to light such a fire under the math kids, but they thought he—and, by extension, math—was super-cool, and that’s good enough for me.

The Boy spent the second half of the year learning about immigration. Here's a photo of him as his immigrant character, Pol, who I believe came to America from Latvia (he wanted to be from LatVERia, like Dr. Doom, but the teacher wasn't having it).



Please note Pol's face, because, in The Boy's words, "Immigrants always look miserable and sad in those old photos." Nice touch with those turned-out pockets, too. Because, you know: Poor.



This is from yesterday, when the kids all got their final papers, after having completed their immigration procedures. Nice purple hat (which was of course tossed in the air after the ceremony), and NICE HAIR. But he loves the hair. Whatever. We'll see how much he loves it after a hot, itchy, shaggy dog summer.

He's with his grandparents until Friday, being petted and feted and generally treated like a prince. Being their only grandchild has its advantages.