I didn’t get teary eyed at kindergarten drop-off yesterday. My middle child wearing her too-heavy backpack let go of my hand and headed straight into her new classroom for her first day. She paused for a moment in front of one of her new classmates (in tears) until one of the teachers swooped in, bending down to my nearly 6-year-old’s eye level. Then I paused for a moment, wishing I could be a fly on a the wall of this classroom—the same one my now second-grader started his own school career in. But before I completed the thought I turned and walked down the hall, not wanting to be caught by my eldest daughter, so so so ready for kindergarten.
Six hours later, at pick up, my orange-haired girl stood in line, raising her hand as she saw me. And when it was her turn to be dismissed she ran into my arms as I squatted down to look into her hazel eyes. Is it my imagination, or did I get a nod and a smile from the teacher? I didn’t have any doubts that this middle child of mine would have a good day. And in the hours before bed I listened as she told me her cubby number, the names of a few of her “new friends,” what she did in art class—”my favorite” and how the day was generally “awesome.” The last thing she said to me before I turned off her light last night? “Mama, I’m so ready for the second day of kindergarten.”
At about 3:00 a.m. the tears came. The pounding rain awoke me, and I couldn’t go back to sleep. I tossed and turned for a bit. And then my mind woke up fully. And the thoughts started coming. And before I knew it I was all choked up, thinking about this miraculous daughter of mine. My sweet girl. My artist. My dreamer. In kindergarten. How did it all happen so very very fast? Didn’t I just take this photo last week?
--
Originally posted in September 2011