It seems I forgot to mention one of the more humorous things I learned from the home-visit this morning with Xander's teachers. He has never enjoyed being dropped off at school, I know, but he's always very excited to see my truck pull up outside of school to take him home.
There's a car pool lane, where teachers help students in and out of the cars (about three cars at a time). Xander sees my truck from inside the classroom (his teacher has decided he does better waiting in the classroom where he can still play, rather than lining up in the hall with the other kids). He takes off running. He pushes past other kids, and definitely makes sure that he pushes past his brother.
You see, he wants to get there first. Mommy has the bad habit of picking up the first one, and then leading the second one by the hand (they're heavy these days, okay) and it's a busy little traffic area with the parents picking kids up, people leaving for the day, and the school buses leaving. Xander is determined to be the one who gets picked up, and he doesn't mind if he has to race past his brother (or knock him down either, for that matter). He wants to be first.
This, of course, is from the kid who stuck his little arm and fist up on the operating table (during my c-section), as if to say "What about me?" after the doctor had delivered his brother first. My doctor still talks about it to this day.
He wants to be first.
