Back to school

This was the only picture I could get of X on his very first day of second grade.
I had to chase him around the house, switching out camera devices to get one.
He didn't care at all about donning new "back-to-school" clothes.
Good thing, since we didn't buy him any. He's still wearing his sports shorts and t-shirts. He wouldn't even wear his good shoes, instead slipping on his 6 month old pair of indoor soccer shoes.
I was patting myself on the back, thinking I had done an okay job of getting my seven year old to avoid all those messages of consumerism. That was until he saw he was dragging in the same back pack as last year. Six month old ratty shoes, no problem. Dirty shorts and an old soccer uniform, not a big deal.
 Last years bag, call the press.
I told him the same bags selling now will be 75% off in a few weeks, and he could wait for that.
School couldn't have come at a better time.
I was absolutely exhausted.
I love that X wanted to be with me every minute.
It's just hard too pen your eyes from a chemo induced semi-coma to a rambunctious child saying, "Mom, do you want to play soccer? Do you want to go outside? Let's go pass? Can we play wall ball?"
Then, if the answer to that is no, its, "Can we play bakugan/connect four/life/sorry/play station/wii?" or "Can I invite a friend over?" all in rapid succession.
Of course, that's only if I haven't been interrupted to feed him any one of the ten meals my growing man eats.
I'm glad school is back, as much as I know I'll get bored and miss him. I need my rest. I may finally get back to doing those "mom" things.
Even yesterday, I did manage to drag myself off the couch to cook him a batch of brownies to celebrate his first day of school.
I questioned whether it was worth it.
I questioned whether he'd even care.
Silly me, what child does not want brownies after school?
He bounded into the house, eyed the batch, and asked me to cut him a giant one while he contemplated whether to eat it with a spoon or fork.
I gave him the entire pan and a glass of milk and told him to have at it, which seemed like the perfect way to end a good day.