So, we are two days in, and by far the hardest two things have been a) getting up earlier than usual - everyone has to be out the door by 7:30 and b) starting up every few seconds to look around for where Rowen went, and then remembering with a little pang, oh, she isn’t here.
She did pause for a few pictures yesterday morning. In the rain, no less, before heading out to the car. (Our school has a fairly stringent no-parents-sobbing-in-the-doorway policy, so you can only drop a kid off except in extenuating circumstances).
Here is a girl ready to take on the world.
Oh little-big girl. So beautiful on your first day of one of the Great Adventures of life. I am full to overflowing with pride (look at this person! this being of grace and intelligence and laughter and spirit!) and wonder (how did you get to be so big all of a sudden? you are the most beautiful creature I can possibly imagine) and anxiety (are you ready for this? have I prepared you enough? will this school experience be what it should be?), and I wipe a few tears, because what else does a mother have but a heart has expanded wide as the universe, and can’t be contained, and so it flows out her eyes?
And now, having held you cupped in my two hands for so long - having had you almost literally all to myself for these your years, I feel a rush of hope - tinged with, what is that? sorrow? which sounds like the wind through new leaves as I lift and open my arms, and watch you fly…
Alright, so everyone I have looked at or talked to for a week has given me that consolatory look - that mourning-with-gladness look that EVERY SINGLE MOTHER has who has sent a kid to kindergarten. I think you must learn how to give that look as part of the first day’s rites of passage.)
And here - my last view of her was rounding the corner of the house to ride with Jared:
p.s. I made those pigtails. Pretty proud of that.
As for her?
She climbed into the car at 3:10 yesterday and I said, “How was your day in kindergarten?”
She sat down in her chair with a supremely satisfied look on her face, and said, “It was pretty much awesome.”
Yeah, sweet girl. I knew you’d love it. It’s ME that we need to fix up. :)