Kindergarten

Twas the night before Kindergarten.
Backpacks and lunches were packed.
Protesting children were laboriously coaxed into bed. For once, I indulged protests for a bit... knowing that I'd kiss a preschooler goodnight and but a kindergartner good morning made me a little more hesitant for bedtime to come.

After a little wardrobe drama, sparked by my child's irrational intolerance for anything resembling shorts/pants/bloomer-type-things and the no-visible-panties-when-hanging-upside-down-from-the-monkey-bars School Rule, we were ready for the big day. 

Parents can walk Kindergartners into school the first week, but I think I needed that luxury far more than she did. No anxiety whatsoever for my little adventurer. 

It was me who lingered a little too long at the door...

And made a few too many trips back and forth by the classroom, glancing by to peek in on the action.

Finally, after dropping by the Tissues and Treats gathering in the library for similarly grieving K-parents, little E and I loitered on the school grounds a little while longer left.

Future Summerfield Viking

E, of course, had a great day. And all in all, I did well too. Having the girls in full-time daycare definitely blunts the emotional upheaval I think some parents experience on the First Day. Still, Kindergarten seems like such a big, grown-up milestone, one that obliterates any last vestige of delusion that this little girl is still... well... little. I survived without tears at dropoff and busied myself throughout the day without too much in the way of melting down (although there was a continuous musical montage of Baby Elle playing in my head). But for some reason when I arrived to pick her up, and saw her at a distance waiting patiently in a line of Tiny People, wearing her backpack and holding onto her lunch bag, the tears welled up. She seemed so grown up, yet still so little. 












For comparison, here are the girls a year ago... on the first day of Pre-K for Elle, and on the first day of Kindergarten. Sitting still for a posed picture is no longer a viable option, clearly. 





















Getting coherent details out of Elle about her day is sometimes difficult. Over the course of the first two days, I garnered the following tidbits:
-She likes Mrs. Lolley, her teacher. She is very nice and E didn't get in trouble not one time the whole day.
(insert Mom urging that not getting into trouble should be the default for every day)
-She made a bunch of new friends, but she can only remember Peyton's name. 
-Two boys who are bald got in trouble for not listening to the jungle gym teacher when he asked them to stop running. (editorial comment: I think she added the "jungle" descriptor to "gym" of her own accord)
-They do a lot of art. Every time they read a book, they do some art about it.
-There's a boy that she didn't get along with very well the first day, but they did better the second day.
-There's a kid named Ronald in her class and she can't help but giggle when the teacher calls his name because she thinks about McDonald's. 
-She had a little trouble opening her yogurt container but a nice girl suggested she twist instead of pull the lid, and she was right!

And to summarize the first 2 days, E announces as we're walking inside:
Mommy, everyone is so nice at school. There are no villains here.

I think a Kindergartner just coined the new school slogan: Summerfield Elementary: There are no Villains Here...