I am trying to catch up with posting some of the bunch of pictures that I recently found and/or otherwise obtained. Some of them were in my ex's storage, which had not been fully searched for many years. Some of the pictures, frankly, I thought were largely long gone. Other pictures were new to me. And still some more pictures were sent to me recently by members on the French side of the family. Again, I will be posting them in the near future.
For now, however, I am simply posting one picture. This one was long overdue. This is my son's junior year class picture, which seemed to take forever for him to finally get. Up until quite recently, they kept using his class picture from last year, for some unknown reason. But he eventually got it. Now it's here, and it seemed like a good idea to share it here.
This is only one picture, admittedly. But this is a new one, and a good one, at that. There will be more. But I felt that this one was worth sharing here.
Enjoy!
Junior Year High School (11th Grade), 2022 - 23:
My son's class picture for academic year 2013-14.
My son's class picture for 2014-2015.
Class pictures of my son over the years:
2011 - 12:
2012-13:
2013-14
2014-15
2015-16
2016 - 6th Grade:
2017:
Yup, it's that time of the year again.
"Back to School."
I believe that New York City schools open their doors to students later today. But for most of the country, the kids are already back in school.
Much to his chagrin, my son started the new school year yesterday, and as usual, I wanted to take a picture or two, or, in this case, three.
Here they are betraying his displeasure, and that famous forced smile, which has become somewhat of a tradition for my son on the first day back in school, as he resigns himself to his fate. This year, he is a sixth grader!
My son putting up an extremely disingenuous smile (above), while in reality, he felt more like looking down and reflecting somberly on where the time went, and why the summer vacation passed by so quickly.
2018: First Day of 7th Grade
September 6, 2018
Yesterday was my son's first day in the 7th grade!
Really, it is amazing just how quickly time passes. After all, the 7th grade was the beginning of the end of what I would consider my "real" childhood, in terms of it being an age of innocence and purely childish pursuits and interests, and my entrance into the beginnings of what would be older, more mature interests and pursuits. Yes, the 7th grade felt like the time when were expected to leave childish things behind, and no longer was it cool, as it just had been in the prior couple of years, to talk about toys or cartoons or comics with peers. It was the time when boys and girl started to really notice one another, when there were actual relationships forming, and when the coolest kids were going out with a boyfriend or girlfriend. I did not have a girlfriend at that time, at such a young age, yet, but it did not take long before I started to want one.
Also, aesthetically speaking, it looked and felt more like high school. We had more definitive periods of classes, and had to travel to get to different rooms, even different wings of the school, in order to get to our classrooms. And by then, it became undeniable that high school was going to happen, that we were indeed truly growing up. This was both comforting and frightening, and I suspect that this was true for most of us.
Indeed, at least in my case, it felt like there was a clear dividing line between the 6th and the 7th grade. We literally were now in a different school, no longer strictly an elementary school. It was a whole lot bigger, and the six elementary schools spread throughout my township (of West Milford) now all converged into one building, from this point until we all would graduate together some years later. The science classes actually looked like they were meant for science, with equipment and chemical bottles and other supplies, as well as strange tables and sinks and such, which also had never been the case before. This was very different territory, indeed.
And there was this: the 7th grade was the beginning point of the second half of the ladder in terms of grades. Somehow, we had gotten through grades 1-6. Now, it was time to begin the equally long, but far more difficult in many respects, journey from grade 7-12. If the age of 50 is supposed to be a gray area, as it is often seen as the old age of youth, or the youth of old age, then the 7th grade felt kind of like that divide with childhood. You were a kid still, yes. But you were no longer one of the younger, smaller, ones. Nobody talked about how cute you were anymore. Now, people began to expect more serious answers to more serious questions. In fact, all of the expectations seemed to be raised.
All of this made it a confusing time, too. You are still a kid, yet in some ways, you almost are not, and are at least beginning to get exposed to more adult interests and pursuits, even if to a limited degree. Physically, it is an awkward age, because most of us no longer merely looked like kids, but we sure also could not pass as adults. And in most cases, although we might desire boyfriends or girlfriends, I think that most kids did not quite have one just yet, either. But the desire to be cool, to fit in, was always there, and I hardly think that I was alone in feeling that this pressure stepped up several notches and became not just noticeable, but unavoidable. Again, this seemed all to begin with the 7th grade.
It was stressful and sometimes annoying to go through, and it was all enough to make me nervous. Again, I hardly feel that this was just something unique to me.
Now, my son is there. Sure, times and circumstances have changed. A lot is different now, for the academic year 2018-19, then it was for academic year 1986-87, when I was in the 7th grade. That much is beyond debate, and I understand just how different things are. Also, my son's town had the middle school begin in the 5th grade, which meant that they lost recess in the 5th grade, which seemed entirely too early to me. But it also means that, at least in terms of being in the physical school and the setting, he is already quite familiar with it all.
Yet, it still makes me nervous, and in many respects. In fact, it makes me even more nervous now, as an adult. This is my son, after all! And while indeed things might be similar to when I went through the 7th grade, the differences these days feel even scarier. I mean, it is hard to even imagine the pressures of social media and texting and all of those comments that we hear horror stories about with the kids. They really are still too young to understand the full ramifications of some of the things that they will see and read and, let's face it, be called or accused of, and in some cases, surely, call others. Those pressures just sometimes feel...well, overwhelming, even to an adult. My son is 12 years old, still. It hardly seems possible that he could possibly be as old as he is already, when it felt like just yesterday that he was a baby, or that he was a toddler, or a 1st grader till reaching out for his teddy bear when I was tucking him in at night.
Such is life. It just keeps marching relentlessly on. And if sometimes, when you get older, you stop and scratch your head, and wonder just what in the hell happened, how time could have passed so damn quickly without your quite realizing it, the calendar does not lie. Sometimes, it feels literally unbelievable, but that is how it goes. Indeed, my son is now 12, and will be celebrating his 13th birthday in a couple of months. He's growing up, and doing so fast. Sometimes, it feels impossibly fast, and you just want it to slow down.
But time has other ideas, doesn't it?
Still, he is a good boy. He always has been, and I believe he always will be. Also, he is still my boy, little or not. Always has been, and always will be. Sure, it is scary, and my guess is that he feels a little bit scared, as well, even if he does not show it, and likely would not admit to it if he is. But the best thing - perhaps the only thing - is to keep doing what I am doing. To keep being the best parent, the best father, that I can be. To be there to listen to him, to watch and help him grow. Answer questions that he asks if and when I can, and offer what guidance I can offer. And always, always to love him and be there for him, come what may.
And also, to enjoy the ride. Enjoy the process of his growing up. I loved when he was a baby, and then a young child. I still relish the times when he shows that he is not yet that old, when he reveals that he still has a bit of that little boy in him.Those times are getting fewer and farther between, but I reserve the right to enjoy them. But it is also a pleasure to watch him grow, even if it sometimes seems a bit rushed, and feels tinged by a bit of sadness at times. He is growing, slowly but surely, and forming into a man. No, he is not there yet, but he is on his way. If his younger boyhood was the groundwork, then this is the beginning of the base structure. He is on his way.
And throughout his journey, I will try to be there for him, come what may.
All of this made it a confusing time, too. You are still a kid, yet in some ways, you almost are not, and are at least beginning to get exposed to more adult interests and pursuits, even if to a limited degree. Physically, it is an awkward age, because most of us no longer merely looked like kids, but we sure also could not pass as adults. And in most cases, although we might desire boyfriends or girlfriends, I think that most kids did not quite have one just yet, either. But the desire to be cool, to fit in, was always there, and I hardly think that I was alone in feeling that this pressure stepped up several notches and became not just noticeable, but unavoidable. Again, this seemed all to begin with the 7th grade.
It was stressful and sometimes annoying to go through, and it was all enough to make me nervous. Again, I hardly feel that this was just something unique to me.
Now, my son is there. Sure, times and circumstances have changed. A lot is different now, for the academic year 2018-19, then it was for academic year 1986-87, when I was in the 7th grade. That much is beyond debate, and I understand just how different things are. Also, my son's town had the middle school begin in the 5th grade, which meant that they lost recess in the 5th grade, which seemed entirely too early to me. But it also means that, at least in terms of being in the physical school and the setting, he is already quite familiar with it all.
Yet, it still makes me nervous, and in many respects. In fact, it makes me even more nervous now, as an adult. This is my son, after all! And while indeed things might be similar to when I went through the 7th grade, the differences these days feel even scarier. I mean, it is hard to even imagine the pressures of social media and texting and all of those comments that we hear horror stories about with the kids. They really are still too young to understand the full ramifications of some of the things that they will see and read and, let's face it, be called or accused of, and in some cases, surely, call others. Those pressures just sometimes feel...well, overwhelming, even to an adult. My son is 12 years old, still. It hardly seems possible that he could possibly be as old as he is already, when it felt like just yesterday that he was a baby, or that he was a toddler, or a 1st grader till reaching out for his teddy bear when I was tucking him in at night.
Such is life. It just keeps marching relentlessly on. And if sometimes, when you get older, you stop and scratch your head, and wonder just what in the hell happened, how time could have passed so damn quickly without your quite realizing it, the calendar does not lie. Sometimes, it feels literally unbelievable, but that is how it goes. Indeed, my son is now 12, and will be celebrating his 13th birthday in a couple of months. He's growing up, and doing so fast. Sometimes, it feels impossibly fast, and you just want it to slow down.
But time has other ideas, doesn't it?
Still, he is a good boy. He always has been, and I believe he always will be. Also, he is still my boy, little or not. Always has been, and always will be. Sure, it is scary, and my guess is that he feels a little bit scared, as well, even if he does not show it, and likely would not admit to it if he is. But the best thing - perhaps the only thing - is to keep doing what I am doing. To keep being the best parent, the best father, that I can be. To be there to listen to him, to watch and help him grow. Answer questions that he asks if and when I can, and offer what guidance I can offer. And always, always to love him and be there for him, come what may.
And also, to enjoy the ride. Enjoy the process of his growing up. I loved when he was a baby, and then a young child. I still relish the times when he shows that he is not yet that old, when he reveals that he still has a bit of that little boy in him.Those times are getting fewer and farther between, but I reserve the right to enjoy them. But it is also a pleasure to watch him grow, even if it sometimes seems a bit rushed, and feels tinged by a bit of sadness at times. He is growing, slowly but surely, and forming into a man. No, he is not there yet, but he is on his way. If his younger boyhood was the groundwork, then this is the beginning of the base structure. He is on his way.
And throughout his journey, I will try to be there for him, come what may.
Here are the pictures of my not so little boy yesterday, about to begin his first day of school for this new academic year:
2020: First Day in High School (West Milford)
Freshman Year (9th Grade), 2020 - 21
Originally published on September 3, 2020
Yes, today, my son started his first day of high school.
I took this picture last evening, just after dropping him off and just before leaving, knowing that I would not likely get to see him today.
Frankly, it hardly seems like all that long ago that my then wife and I were discussing trying to get him in preschool. Then, of course, came kindergarten, and the really big next step to first grade.
Two years ago, another big step, when he went to middle school, or junior high school, as it is sometimes known.
Now, it is outright high school that he is attending. Hell, when I got pulled over in Main during our recent trip, the cop had assumed we were up there to drop my son off at some local college, it seemed. When I told him that my son was only 14, he burst out laughing.
2021: First Day as a Sophomore
September 9, 2021
On Tuesday, my son started his first day of the new academic year of 2021-22. It was his first day as a Sophomore at his high school in Butler, New Jersey.
I was not able to get there on that day, because this is a strange week for me, where I do not have nearly as much freedom of mobility as I usually do, for a variety of reasons. But there was very little chance that I would be able to make it there in his hometown on his first day of school this year.
Still, I asked my ex if she could take a picture of him in the morning, just before school. Both of them agreed to do it. I made sure and asked my son if he was serious, and he said that he was, even though he has a rather long history of trying to get out of getting his picture taken any way that he can.
It came as no surprise to me, then, that he found a way to get out of getting his picture taken that morning. He said that he would take a picture of himself at the high school.
And that is what he did. So, here it is. A picture of my boy, on the first day of his second year of high school now. Don’t want to sound cliché, but where does the time go?
September 6, 2022:
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