Summer vacation is officially over as of 7:55 am this morning. Let the education games begin. *May the odds be ever in your favour.* (Can you tell I just watched The Hunger Games? The best part was when it ended. Oh yes, I went there. I'll stick with Lord of the Flies and Piggy for my child on child violence, thank you very much.)

My daughter is a junior in high school, her brother a sophomore. I still remember my first day of school as a junior. I thought I was all fancy in my new shoes and my stiff new jeans and I was making eyes at the senior boy at the back of the bus with big blue eyes.

I spent the entire bus ride pretending I wasn't flirting with him and every time we made eye contact I'd blush and look away. When the bus finally pulled in front of the high school, I had concocted a plan to introduce myself to him. I was going to get off the bus before him, pretend to tie my shoelaces and then pop up in front of him when he got off the bus, thereby forcing a hello.

It was a fabulous plan. It may have worked too. I'll never know. What happened instead was I fell OUT OF THE BUS. Some kid behind me, in their eagerness to get to class, shoved me and I lost my balance because my backpack was crammed full with new school supplies. I face planted into the sidewalk, my nose started to bleed and everyone laughed. Including the cute blue eyed boy on the bus.

He never even stopped to offer me a hand. He just avoided eye contact and kept on walking. I scuffed my new shoes, bruised my ego and wiped the blood off my nose. WELCOME TO YOUR JUNIOR YEAR TANIS. The bell hadn't even rang yet.

Sadly, the first day of class on my senior year was EVEN worse, but that's a story that can keep till next year.

Here's hoping my tribe does a little better on their first day.

To celebrate the occasion, I did what I've done every year for the past 12 first days of school I've had with my kids. I've lined them up and forced them to smile.

Nothing says "Summer is over, get your arses back to class," like me shoving a camera in their faces and telling them to say cheese. Only after barking at them to hurry up and for the love of God, no a can of Coke and a granola bar does not consist a healthy lunch no matter how many times you ask.

This morning was particularly disorganized and if it's a harbinger of school mornings to come, well I am in for a world of trouble.

First, no one wanted to stand for the picture. Because apparently "traditions are pointless and have no meaning."

I may have snarled. And put the fear of death into them at the same time. I don't know. It's all rather fuzzy. I hadn't had my morning coffee yet.

Jumby wasn't quite sure what was going on.

Envision me standing there, with my robe gaping open, holding my camera and screaming out "OW" trying to get my youngest son to smile. (The Jumbster is a bit of a sadist and will routinely smile whenever he hears someone say 'ow.')

Meanwhile Fric keeps telling Frac that he's holding Jumby wrong and he is slipping.

I'm standing there clucking like a chicken, trying to get the Jumbster to look forward when all of a sudden a noise comes from between the kids.

It didn't sound good.

That right there is documented evidence of how two teenaged children react when they realize their little brother just pooped and the only thing between them and 'it' is a diaper and some Old Navy Skinny jeans.

Welcome to the first day of school kids.

Eventually I managed to get a decent(ish) picture. It only required a diaper change, a few threats and a bribe.

I tried taking a few other pictures, you know, just to really push my luck and ensure my kids would have to run for the bus, but once someone busted out with the Zoolander imitation I had officially lost control of the situation.

All of that and we officially missed the bus on the first day of school.

It's going to be a banner year, yo.

Welcome to the 2012-13 school year kids. May your grades be good, your lunches not forgotten and your homework easy. And may your mother not lose her mind along the way.

 *Post Edit*

I want it noted, for the record, that I've actually read The Hunger Games books. And I loathed them. In fact, I loathed the books more than I loathed the movie. Mr. Lady sums up why I hated the Hunger Games books more eloquently than I ever could. Thank God for grammar geeks.