Friday, June 7, 2013
My youngest was only twenty-two months old when she started school. In the photos from that day, the top of her head is several inches below the doorknob behind her.
It was her first drop-off away-from-home experience, and I thought she'd be nervous. I feared there would be tears.
We walked into school. In the entryway, she hugged me and said, "Goodbye, Mommy." Then she turned around and strode into the classroom without looking back. The only tears were mine. As so often happens with this child, she was ready before I was.
That little peanut finishes kindergarten today, and she will be attending a new school next year. Her kindergarten friends will disperse among at least two private and three public schools, and I will no longer drive to Montessori each morning as I've done for the last six school years (her brother attended before she did).
She is ready. For the last several months, I've marveled how small the "little kids" look at morning drop-off. The kindergartners look like tiny giants and act like the seniors on campus--experienced and worldly in their miniature world.
While a window of new friends and teachers and experiences opens for her, the door on preschool and kindergarten closes. It is a time of transition, and it is bittersweet.
This time, I doubt I will be the only one in tears.
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I have linked this post at Just Write.