I have always dreaded the first day of school. I was an anxious child, and unsurprisingly, I have an anxious daughter. I dread it now for her sake as well as mine. It is heartwrenching to be unable to answer her, "You will stay with me?" question with the affirmative.
|A good face|
She's learned to put on a brave face because she knows what we hope to see, but you can see that facade slip as she tries to keep her anxiety in check. I know the feeling far too well.
But! It wasn't so bad! It never really is, is it? For one, Brian took her to school. The minute he arrived home, I was clamoring for the report: They met up with her new teacher in the office, but Maggie put her head down on a bench and refused to even look at the teacher. Knowing his presence wasn't going to help matters, Brian took off. Soon after his departure, Maggie picked up her head and said, "Where is my new classroom?" According to her teacher, she was chatty, an avid participant, and offered encouragement to her one classmate. At home, we heard about how she made a pancake and a snake (that "got" her teacher) out of Play-Doh, how they read a story, sang a song, and played outside.
When I picked her up, we headed to the library as a treat and picked out some of her favorites to check out again. Per Maggie's preferences, we had "brinner" for dinner with a healthy (or not so much) helping of bacon for our big girl. Followed by "vanilla i-pim with tat-tat syrup on it." She was unable to finish her helping so I finished it for her. After I finished my own helping.
Lesson learned? I worry just as much, if not more that my little girl. Keeping my distance during transitions is a good thing.