First day of middle school for my three sixth graders was rather eventful. It’s tough to be frightened of what’s ahead when you have three other siblings in the 7th grade and two eighth grade sibs plus a seventh grade niece paving the way at the school. It’s the same school that I retired from so the faculty and staff also look out for my children. The principal’s son roomed with my 21 year old son in a dorm, and so on and so on in a small town.

The kids have the same bus driver from elementary to high school plus everyone around here knows where we live. It’s the noisy, rambunctious house.

My most secure 11 year old son, he’s been here since birth, called me late this afternoon fighting back scared tears, “Mom, I got bus-left.”

I could barely hear him, he was so embarrassed over his tears since he’s now a sixth grader. I quickly replied, “Wait out front darling, I’ll be there in a second.”

His principal was standing outside with him when I got there, telling him that he looked so much like Daniel, my 21 year old.

CW got into my truck, snuffling, fiercely wiping his eyes, not wanting anyone to see him cry, but inordinately proud to have been compared to Daniel who is such a star in our family, he’s smart, handsome and an athlete.

CW is Anglo-Hispanic, his birth mom from Brownsville, Texas while Daniel is totally Mexican and from El Paso. No birth connection at all yet when Daniel was 10, CW was born and Daniel has always been close to CW. CW truly has picked up mannerisms of Daniel, his role model, and therefore CW’s embarrassment over the missed bus turned into pride at being recognized as Daniel’s younger brother.

Chuy, my gifted sixth grader, celebrated his entrance into middle school by tripping over a chair in the cafeteria, falling down and clanging his head on the metal table…giggling and totally unembarrassed.

My third brand new sixth grader scurried through the halls, keeping track of his brothers with his sixth sense, but preferring a much more uneventful day.