The first week of kindergarten came, and went. Isabel woke up early, excited to get into one variation of her uniform, eat breakfast, brush her hair, throw on her new pink backpack and go to school! At the sound of the whistle, she lined up and waved goodbye, her face beaming with Big-girl pride. Meanwhile, I sniffled my way to the parking lot with "there goes-my-baby" pride. Really? It is that easy for her to walk away? Of course, I know this is a good thing- but it sure feels like a mixed blessing As I get older I am more aware, and seemingly more prepared for these tangible moments of time passing. Still, they sneak up on me and my emotions slightly knock the wind out of me. Lame. I'm not one to cry easily but, if my mother is any indication, I suppose I can expect these kind of tears for the rest of my life. Perhaps with increasing intensity. Oh well, the tears do pass, and I get busy and my focus gets re-directed. By the time I pick her up, I am all smiles thrilled to hear all about recess. Or about how she is the class calendar monitor! Or, about a nurse "tickling her hair looking for fleas". In just one week, there has been a sea-change in overall demeanor. Something has shifted in her expression. My little girl who came from the peace-love, dig in the dirt and sprinkle fairy dust pre-school is at a school-school now - One that has teenagers (!) who on occasion actually talk to her. She was ready to grow, and she has- leaped! Right into her own desk with fresh pencils and erasers and folders with occasional homework. She comes home tired to the bone, so happy to crawl into bed. We read a book, or two, "Please Mommy, just turn the light off". Out by 8:30pm. Whoa. We'll see how long that lasts.
