Emma's First Day of Kindergarten

Motherhood is often about transitions, and we try our hardest to both love and let go well.  Love happens to be the easy part.  Today, my Emma Grace, you started kindergarten.  We have been talking about this day for quite a while, and maybe it is just a credit to how very much I love your daddy, but I was more nervous this morning than on my wedding day.  That day, I knew that I was marrying my best friend.  This morning, I was letting one of my best girls spread her wings more than ever before, and it was tough.

On Monday, we got to go to your Open House and meet your teacher and see the other kids.

   

You were so excited.  After, you wished that school would start the very next day.  I wished that it wouldn’t start for quite some time.  Don’t get me wrong, I am so happy for you.  It’s just that I love spending time with you, and I will miss you.  Monday, you told me, “Mom, it’s kind of like Mrs. P. (your teacher) will be my mom because I will spend all day with her.”  Now, if you’re a mother someday, you’ll understand that I didn’t take this personally but did feel a sinking in my heart.  I told you that you would have so much fun learning with your new teacher, but I will always be your mommy. 

Yesterday, the reality of the new change started to sink in for you.  First thing in the morning, you told me, “I am so glad I got you for a mom, the best mom in the whole world.  I got the very best mommy.”  Of course, this is said by most kids, but somehow it still makes a parent feel warm and fuzzy.  It is kind of like “I love you,” often used but still powerful when you can feel the emotion behind it.  Your kind words and sweet snuggles started my day off right.  You also said, “Saturday and Sunday are going to be my favorite days.”  I assured you that you would have so much fun at school, but Saturday and Sunday would be my favorite days, too.  We finished the Little House book These Happy Golden Years, snuggling and reading together most of the afternoon.

Last night, you picked out your dress.  I ironed it and laid it out for you and found a matching hair bow.  This morning, about 15 minutes before we planned to leave, you told me you wanted a different dress and hairstyle.  Normally, I would tell you that it was too late and you’d have to wear it the next day, but I wanted you to feel confident today, so I quickly ironed your other dress and styled your hair.  Then, Daddy took lots of pictures of you for me.  I took video.  On the video, you said you were most excited to “ride the bus,” which is funny, because it’s one of the hardest things for me to let you do.  Last night after you were in bed, I was crying pretty hard because I was having a tough time with all of this, and then Daddy said that I could always drive behind the school bus.  Pretty soon, we were laughing just as hard as I had been crying at the thought of a line of minivans following the bus, nervous parents forming a conspicuous parade that everyone would notice at each bus stop.

At breakfast, I gave you a kiss on the inside of your hand and wrapped your hand over it, reminding you that mommy’s kiss would stay with you all day.  We have read The Kissing Hand  together before, and you gave me an encouraging smile to let me know you understood.  I handed you your lunchbox which includes some of your favorite foods and a love note from me.  I hope it makes you smile.

When Daddy was taking pictures at our house before school, you were wishing you could just go to school, but then you saw the school bus picking up the kids in the neighborhood, and you smiled so excitedly.  L and I drove you to school, and Daddy came, too, to help drop you off.  

  

 

They had a cool balloon arch at the entrance.  The principal greeted you by name at the door.  We walked you in, stopped at your locker, and went into the classroom.    There were plenty of tears from parents and kids, and the little boy sitting next to you was crying hardest of all, poor thing.  I was worried this might get to you.  You looked very serious and somewhat concerned, but you stayed so brave.

 

After a few minutes, I could tell that I wasn’t going to stay as brave as you were, so I gave you one more kiss on your hand, asked you one more time if you wanted me to pick you up (and you said you still wanted to take the bus), reminded you to be a good listener, and told you that I couldn’t wait to hear about your fun day.

The school had a Kindergarten / New Parent breakfast after, or as your teacher dubs it, a “Boo Hoo Breakfast.”  We went, and while we were having breakfast in the library, only one class walked by the windows.  It was yours!  You gave us the biggest smile and wave, and it was such a priceless moment for me.  I was very grateful to see you so happy, comfortably walking in line, looking confident. 

 

After the breakfast, L and I drove away.  When we got home, I felt such an empty, sick feeling.  Though I know it sounds cheesy, I truly feel like part of my heart is inside your school.  I am so very proud of what a big girl you are becoming, thrilled to see you so excited to meet new kids and learn new things, so I will do my best to keep my tears to myself.  I want you to have the chance to love school for the wonderful place it can be, full of magical learning and fun friends, teachers who put their whole hearts into their job, and experiences that you will remember fondly.  I am happy that L will get what you got your first two years, lots of one-on-one time with me.  Still, she and I will both miss you very much.  She started playing dollhouse shortly after we got home.  I overheard her role playing with the dolls, saying, “Your sister, Emma, is at school.”  This summer, you told me that you will miss playing with her.  This will be an adjustment for all of us, but I can’t wait to hear about all that you experience.  The time we do have at home will continue to be sweet family time, but your world is getting bigger, and I am very proud of the little girl that I am sending out into it.  I love you with all my heart, my precious kindergartner.   

And now that you are home from school, I have to quickly add that you came home very happy. "The bus!" was your favorite part of kindergarten. When I asked why you, a devout lover of food, ate very little of your lunch, you said, "He said that it was almost time for recess, and I didn't want to miss recess!" Finally, you told me that you cried at recess time. I love how you articulate things: "Mom, I cried. I looked all around, and there were so many strangers everywhere. There was not a glimpse of Mrs. P. anywhere. Then, a lady with a green shirt and a microphone came up to me and asked who my teacher was. I cried more. Then, someone made the right guess of who my teacher was, and they called Mrs. P. over. I stopped crying when I saw her." Though I wished I could have been there for you, I am happy to hear you got the help you needed and proud of you for being such a brave girl on the bus. You can't wait to go back tomorrow! And now, I need to go snuggle with you and read our last Little House book, The First Four Years, per your request. So much changed today, but our connection is still as strong as ever. Can't wait to share a good book with my favorite kindergartner.