Kindergarten arrived without too much anxiety or fanfare for you (or your dad). Gigantic surprise, it was steeped in both for me. The days are long (7:45-2:55), and I was struggling with the unknown - how will you adapt to the structured day? how will you feel about it once June arrives? what kind of friends will you make? will your teacher see and understand you? how the heck will you consume enough food to sustain energy throughout the day? - but in true Charlie fashion, you just rolled with all of it.
Rally Day was the Friday before school started, and while you quietly clung so tightly to my hand (cue all the choked back tears) as we walked into school to discover your teacher and class list, as soon as we hit your new classroom, you were eager to explore. You had questions for your teacher about centers and the loft area, and we read through the rules posted on a bulletin board and joked that you were already good at all of them - you were undoubtedly going to rock kindergarten. We spent the weekend living up the last bit of summer, and by the time Monday morning arrived, you were giddy to finally get to break in all of your new clothes and shoes. (I pulled a real mom move and wouldn't let you wear any of them until school started. Oh, the delayed gratification!) We made a deal that if I could pick out your first day of school and picture day outfit, you could pick out your clothes all other days of the year. You're all-sports-gear-all-the-time nowadays. I thought your fancy clothes days were frustrating, but I didn't know how much I'd miss them.
You woke up with a jolt ready to greet Monday morning, and as we sat down for breakfast, you listened intently as your dad and I read through the back-to-school breakfast placemat we made you the night before reminding you exactly who you are and to honor and be confident in all of it as you step into this new school year. We snapped pics and sprinted through our morning routine - shoot, 7:45 comes quickly. After coaxing you into letting me snap some pictures outside your classroom (moms are so embarrassing), we walked in to find an apple and a gummy worm waiting for you at your seat. Holy moly. "Mom! In kindergarten, you get candy for breakfast." Nevermind this wasn't your breakfast, and I was pretty certain this wouldn't be the everyday norm, I wanted to kiss Ms. Bulluck for the goodies. We turned to go, and you didn't even kind of glance towards us. Your tablemate, Stella, whispered to you that Ms. Bulluck said you could eat your gummy and apple now or save them for later as you were shoving the tail of the worm into your mouth. She sweetly caught herself mid-sentence and said, "Oh. I guess you just want to eat all of it right now." At pick-up you were ecstatic. It had been a great day, and you couldn't believe all the fun stuff you get to do at your new school. Your favorites so far are the two recesses, running the track, PE, music, art, computers, and playing in the centers in your classroom. My theory is that you love the routine and schedule of the day. You love predictability, and since you were a newborn, you've lived by a schedule. Kindergarten is one big routine and constant motion - your two favorite things. God bless a kindergarten teacher. You're only a month in to school, and we've already seen an amazing improvement to your writing, reading, and drawing skills. I'm in awe of your teacher and this sweet school.
You've settled right in to big-kid school, Charlie boy, and as usual, when I get overwhelmed by all the unknown, you're there to power through it like an enthusiastic, optimistic little champ. We're hoping this is just the start of a long love affair with school.
