Well, it happened. The first day of big-girl school is finally here. The day I’ve been dreading. The day my baby girl becomes a big girl.
It started the way I remember my school days starting … with the parent getting frustrated with the child for not getting up. There are times when it is completely obvious that my daughter really is MY daughter. This was one of those times. I remember my dad even going so far as to pour water on me to get me out of bed when I was older. It is obvious that neither of us are morning people at all.
But, she finally got up and after 10min of lying on the couch, she got dressed by herself. I brushed her hair and put a school ribbon on it (the cult requires their ribbon be used if one is present). Then she looked at herself in the mirror. When she came out, I said “Oh, don’t you look cute!” She gave me a look that I have felt myself give people many times and shook her head no. I asked “You look like a big girl. Do you like it?” She shook her head yes (oh, how I long for rocks in the head to rattle when the head shakes). All of a sudden it hit me. “Are you saying you’re not cute, you’re a big girl?” “Unh-hunh.” *SOB* I had to give her a hug so she wouldn’t see the tears in my eyes.
Then it was breakfast. She wanted French toast but I didn’t have any frozen stuff and I wasn’t sure we’d have time for me to make it. I convinced her to have Eggs a la Momma (eggs scrambled with cheese and milk) instead. She ate like a champ, brushed her teeth and we were off.
Oops, we have to take the umbrellas because it’s raining cats and dogs. Oh, wait, stop at the top of the stairs, honey. Mommy needs to take a picture. Snap the shot in the rain. NOW we’re off. I had to make a couple of stops before we got to school. We ran to Walgreens to buy the 5mg tablets of Zyrtec so the school wouldn’t have to break them if there was an allergic reaction on their watch. Then we stopped at my office to make copies of all of the forms from school. I learned my lesson with her daycare about making copies of the forms. Never assume the school is going to actually file what they need in the right place … or at all.
On our way to school, I give the Mommy Lecture. Be good. Listen to your teacher. If you need help, ask.
We get to school and run in. I’ve got 5 minutes until school starts but, wait, does Kindergarten start early? I don’t know so I give her a quick hug and kiss in the hall. “Love you.” “Love you.” When we get to her room, all of the kids are seated in their chairs already. Whew! At least there won’t be a crying scene from either of us. She won’t be happy that I didn’t say goodbye again since she’s very much into saying goodbye and I Love you but it’s for the best today. I am not happy that I didn’t get to hear ‘I love you, mommy’ that one last time but, again, it’s for the best today.
I push her in and run to the office to give them her allergy medicine and the giant stack of paperwork. As I’m talking with the lady in the office about her allergies, Faith’s cousin walks by and rubs my back. I give her the ‘wait’ finger and finish talking to the office lady. I turn around and she’s got tears in her eyes from leaving her little boy in Kindergarten. He apparently told her he’d miss her and it just got her. Seeing her made me very sad because I hadn’t let myself think about it or feel it for fear of exposing too much and making my daughter upset. I got teary. On the way to work, I cried a little thinking about how she was a big kid now and how I had just another 13yrs before she’d be out on her own. 13yrs. It seems like so much and, yet, so little all at the same time.
It’s amazing how little it takes to knock down that wall mothers build so the kids won’t see how much we are going to miss them during the day and how much we are going to miss the little kids they will never be again.
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