Class of 2027

Kara had her first day of Pre-K on the 22nd.  On the 21st we had her orientation.  At precisely 2pm, all the parents and children, who had been patiently waiting outside, were led to the cafeteria.  They gave a brief introduction and then took the kids off to their classroom.  Some kids were beyond excited, some were extremely apprehensive, and some were a combination.  I would say Kara fell into the latter category.  After she was gone, the principal read a poem about bequeathing to the world "a little girl with blonde hair and two blue eyes and a happy laugh that ripples all day long."  Since the description was Kara's (and probably 5 other girls in the room), it made me teary.

After some administrative matters, we were led to the classroom where our students were happily engaged. We stayed for a few more minutes and then went home.  Both of Kara's teachers seemed very nice and she was excited to go back the following day.

Thursday morning was hard for her, she really wanted to get on the bus with Jack and Anna.  She is in the afternoon program, which means she rides the bus home with Jack and Anna, but gets on around lunchtime (by herself).  She put on her carefully chosen back-to-school outfit and impatiently waited the morning away.  Speaking of her outfit, Thomas and I took them to Kohl's for sneakers.  We told them if they were good, they could look at the toys.  They were fine, so we headed to the toy aisle.  After about 15 minutes, we told them that we had about 5 minutes left in the store and they could continue looking at toys, or go pick out a new outfit.  Only Kara chose to get something new (a decision Anna later regretted).  Our kids have tons of clothes.  Anna still has a bunch of stuff I bought her from Gymboree that she hasn't even bothered to wear, so don't think they were deprived.

Finally, it was time to go.  We walked to the bus stop and for the first time, Kara showed some nervousness. However, she never wavered in her desire to go. Two buses went by, including the bus she would ride in the afternoon, and both times she waited expectantly for them to pick her up, but the drivers just waved and kept going.  Then, the third bus came, and it did slow down and it was time.  She hugged me a couple of times and told me she loved me, then she climbed onto the cavernous bus and was whisked away.  It was a sad walk home without her little hand in mine.

As I had done the day before, I counted the minutes until it was time to greet the bus and hear about her day at school.  She happily bounced off the bus and eagerly told me what they had done.  She pulled a raccoon puppet out of her bag and proclaimed that she liked school.  She had two complaints: the bus driver drove to fast and was not nice and they made her eat all of her lunch.  I promised to pack smaller lunches, but there was nothing I could say about the bus driver.  I imagine that after a lifetime in a carseat it is disconcerting to find yourself sitting on large bus with nary a seat belt.

So, that is it.  For about 3 hours a day, all of my children are at school.  It is a strange feeling.  I enjoy not having to listen to them fight, but I miss seeing them and knowing all that happens in their day.  I miss not being able to protect them and I don't like handing control to strangers. They are wonderful, special children and I want the world to be kind to them.

Here is the poem the principal read, apparently written by Dan Valentine and found in the book, "American Essays: Sentimental Classics Designed to Make the Heart Sing".

I Trust You'll Treat Her Well World, I bequeath to you today one little girl in a crispy dress.. with two blue eyes...and a happy laugh that ripples all day long, and a batch of light blonde hair that bounces in the sunlight when she runs. I Trust You'll Treat Her Well. She's slipping out of the backyard of my heart this morning and skipping off down the street to her first day at school. And never again will she be completely mine... Prim and proud, she'll wave a young and independent hand this morning, and say goodbye and walk with little-lady steps to the nearby schoolhouse... Gone will be the chattering little hoyden who lived only for play, and gone will be the delightful little gamin who roamed the yard like a proud princess with nary a care in her little world. Now, she will learn to stand in lines...and wait by the alphabet for her name to be called... She will learn to tune her little-girl ears for the sound of school bells, and for deadlines... She will learn to giggle and gossip... and to look at the ceiling in a disinterested way when the little boy across the aisle sticks out his tongue. Now she will learn to be jealous...and now she will learn how it is to feel hurt inside...and now she will learn how not to cry.  No longer will she have time to sit on the front porch steps on a summer day and watch while an ant scurries across a crack in the sidewalk... Or will she have time to pop out of bed with the dawn to kiss lilac blossoms in the morning dew.  Now she will worry about important things...like grades...and what dresses to wear...and whose best friend is whose.  Now she will worry about the little boy who pulls her hair at recess time... and staying after school...and which little girls like which little boys...And the magic of books and knowledge will soon take the place of the magic of her blocks and dolls.  And she'll find her new heroes.  For five full years I've been her sage and Santa Claus...her pal and playmate...her parent and friend.  Now, alas, she'll learn to share her worship and adoration with her teachers (which is only right). No longer will her parents be the smartest, and greatest in the world. Today, when the first school bell rings, she'll learn how it is to be a member of the group...with all its privileges, and, of course, its disadvantages, too.  She'll learn in time that proper young ladies don't laugh out loud...or keep frogs in pickle jars in bedrooms...or watch ants scurry across the cracks in a summer sidewalk... Today, she'll begin to learn for the first time that all who smile at her are not her friends. That "the group" can be a demanding mistress... and I'll stand on the porch and watch her start out on the long, long journey to becoming a woman. So WORLD, I BEQUEATH TO YOU TODAY ONE LITTLE GIRL in a crispy dress, with two blue eyes, a happy laugh that ripples all day long, and a batch of light blonde hair that bounces in the sunlight when she runs. I TRUST YOU'LL TREAT HER WELL.