kindergarten

It's official...Ella is a big kindergartner! Yay/boo hoo. All summer, the idea of her being away all day (9-4pm) has lurked in the back of my mind and I've reminded myself to make the most of our moments together. (Not always great at that...I must confess.) I never considered myself the type of mom who would cry when their child went off to school. Frankly, I just felt excited for her because that's the angle she's been taking. I mean, check her out!

She's got the uniform, all her pencils neatly sharpened and in a case, a brand new backpack full of all kinds of gear. And she's feeling full of anticipation about lots of playing and learning and general merriment. And new shoes!

And then, reality.

Do you see that look? That's the look of, "Where do I go? What happens next? Who will be my friend? Where's the safe spot to hang out?" Seriously. She's all composed in this picture, and in this picture:

but after I left the classroom, she melted in a flurry of tears. Her teacher told me she had to "fan her face." I totally didn't expect that one people. I thought she might be nervous and a little apprehensive, but not weeping.

So, she got through the first day with a couple of teary moments. That was good. Then at bedtime, she tells me she doesn't want to go back to school and she cries. Really cries. And my heart breaks. Because I can totally remember the feeling of anxiety she's feeling at undertaking such a big change with lots of unknowns and newness. And I want to rescue her, but there's nothing I can really do to keep her from growing up.

Day two was much worse. I promised to walk her to class again, but that I wouldn't stay because there weren't any other parents taking their children. When she was seated at her desk and the tears began to flow, her teacher, Mrs. Morton, whispered to me to "Just go." I whispered to Ella some words of love and encouragement and then headed for the door. It felt so strange to leave her crying. I haven't ever done that before. It felt so horrible to climb the steps outside her classroom and hear her call out, "MOOOMMMM!!" as she saw me leaving. I felt rather hollow and haunted by that. But I kept it together.

Day three, was the day I finally shed some tears. We had lots of conversations since school had started where I assured her that it would get easier and even fun the more she got used to it. I promised a special surprise if she could make it the whole day without crying. That seemed to intrigue her. But then when I took her to the playground where all the classes line up in the morning to proceed to class, it overwhelmed her again. (This change is significant since her class last year was only seven kids and this year it's twenty. Plus, the recess time is multiple classes together, all the way up to fifth grade.) I could see her lip start to quiver and her eyes well up. She was trying SO HARD to keep it under wraps, but it just refused to be squelched. I hugged her and she said, "Can I still get my surprise?"

That morning, I came home and cried. She is such a sensitive girl and I want to do right by her. I just hated to see her hurting and overwhelmed. Turns out, she has actually been missing me more than struggling to adapt to the social change. She told me that she wished her teacher was, "more like mom." To quote more accurately, she said, "I wish she was like Mom and we could hang out in the kitchen. If she was like Mom, I wouldn't miss you so much. But she doesn't have a kitchen at school!" And then she broke down. I'm so moved by how she communicates her feelings.

Anyway, to wrap this whole experience up, today was Monday, day one of week two. We got up early and played before school. After finishing up breakfast, we were getting her backpack together to leave. She looked at me as if something had dawned on her. Then she said, "You know what, Mom? I don't think I'm going to cry today!" And she didn't. Something just clicked.

It's all downhill from here. Phew.