Aug 28

Baby’s first day of preschool

We dropped J off at preschool today. After waking the family up early, dressing in the grey Seattle pre-light, and carefully packing her very first school lunch, we trundled into the car, turned on her Music Together CD to make her comfortable (not that she seemed nervous) and drove to the little converted Craftsman that houses her preschool. She’ll be gone 8-3, a long day for a little person. I can’t believe she’s so grown up! She barely noticed us leave, too enthralled by the play kitchen to notice the tears in mama’s eyes. We dropped her gear in her cubby, along with Pooh and her “Everyone Loves J” board book that has pictures of her family. The art room is huge. Easels and paint were set up and waiting. Markers and colored pencils and paper and chairs just her size. I think she’ll like that so many things there are designed for wee people–tables and potties and sinks. All the kids seemed shy, hiding in their parents legs instead of saying hi, but it’s the first week for everyone. Most of the other kids have done this before. J is the new kid on the block. She’s a little young for formal school. Mostly I wanted to give her the opportunity to make friends with kids her own age. We know so few people with kids, being the first of our friends to marry, settle down, and start a family. But I also thinks she gets bored at home. School two days a week will give her just enough new projects to liven things up.

Prince Charming and I went out for breakfast afterward. We sat with wide eyes wondering if we should go pick her back up. Were we doing the right thing? Would she be able to share? Would she make friends? Would anyone notice that Ryan had tucked her pants into her socks?

Seriously. It was like leaving her with a babysitter the first few times (even though the babysitters were my parents). Should we go back? Was she doing okay? Would she suddenly notice that we’d left and start crying?

I packed her a note in her lunch box. “We love you J.” Even if she can’t read it, she’ll recognize her name and the hearts. And I know she’ll be fine. She’s smart and resilient, but she’ll never figure out how to survive in the real world if I follow her around putting the caps back on her markers her whole life. Sometimes the hardest part of parenting is letting her fly out the nursery window and soar on her own.

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