This morning I dropped off Jack for his first day of second grade. It was no big deal for him, but I left a little sorrowful that he's so at ease with the school routine. He put his backpack in line and hugged me goodbye, then walked away. I felt like Peggy Lee. Is that all there is to the first day of second grade? I had a first day, too. First day back in the classroom with younger three-year-olds, and I felt like it was the first day back to a job I enjoy. Though I started last school year as a lead teacher with high hopes in the older threes classroom, as the year progressed those hopes were dashed against the rocky shore of a difficult group of kids and a co-teacher whose philosophy differed greatly from my own. This year I'm back with the age group I enjoy and two teachers whose philosophies complement my own. When I picked up Jack at the bus stop, we were both satisfied with a good first day. We're neither of us used to concentrating like that after the lazy days of
formerly thrilled by thrift