The last first day of preschool

Two hours ago Anna started her last first day of preschool ever. With entering her third year of preschool (at different schools each year), we're pros by now...although this year does bring one new first for us: having to get her to morning preschool, rather than afternoon preschool. And for an 8:30 start time no less. Ouch.

Despite that I stayed up stupidly late (like 4:00 AM late) trying to get stuff done for my big deadline at work tomorrow and that I simply couldn't sleep well--must have been paranoid that I'd oversleep the alarm going off at 7:30--our first morning of getting up at the crack of dawn (for us) and out the door on time/early went well.

Anna humored Mommy when I wanted to get some pictures with my new camera during breakfast....

I could tell she was looking forward to her new preschool because there was little foot-dragging, whining, or nagging from Mommy required to get us out the door at the preappointed 8:20 departure.

We even had some time to sneak in a few quick pictures before we left the house.

She requested in front of the flowers.


"Mommy, take one of my backpack!" (Hooray--it's holding up for a second year of school. =))

Between being five years old now and wearing size-6 big-girl clothes and shoes with heels because she's now too big for toddler sizes, she seems too big to be going off to preschool again.

I don't know if it'd be easier or harder if she were starting kindergarten this year instead, though. I'm glad I have another year home with her before she permanently becomes a big girl, but having a five year old just seems...strange. Wrong somehow. She's still a little girl, but she's so big now. And old.

Five?!? How can she be five already?

The four-minute drive to her new preschool--two blocks from her dance studio and only twenty blocks from our house--went quickly, and she was super-ready and excited to head inside.


With new gadget/toy giddiness still in full force, Mommy still wanted to snap a few last pictures before heading inside...

...but Anna's excitement kept Mommy in check....

An aside:

As a fairly isolated stay-at-home child for so long (aside from playdates with cousins and friends she's known since she was a baby), Anna's a little hesitant and uncertain about how to start playing with other kids at first. Because she hasn't spent a ton of time at parks, with bunches of unknown kids, or in large social settings--and simply because of her personality, I suspect--she's never really sure how to get other kids to play with her at first, how to play with them. We went to a park a week ago and I could tell she wanted to play with 3 or 4 little boys who were running around and playing together, but as a cautious, independent, introverted, sometimes shy little girl, it didn't automatically happen and I had to coach her on how to try. "But, Mom, I told them I'm five," she insisted, thinking it was the magic statement to insert herself into a world of Big Kids Playing Together. "I know, honey, but you've got to say more than that. Try asking, 'Can I play with you?'" I suggested. But she was too shy to say it outright. And despite that one of the moms, overhearing Anna's and my conversation, asked her four-year-old son to include Anna, it never really progressed much.

Now back to this morning....

Anna's been talking nonstop about a girl she met at preschool orientation last Thursday night--"Mom, we were becoming friends!" she exclaimed excitedly several times since Thursday...a nice counterpoint of initial success for her, a mere three days after the nonincident in the park above. But like her mommy's horrid memory for names, she didn't catch or remember the girl's name, nor did we know if she'd even be in Anna's class. Anna mentioned this girl again--"Maybe she'll be in my class and we'll be friends!"--as we got out of the car and headed into the classroom.

Anna was excited, Mommy, relieved, when the new almost-friend was immediately spotted in the entry.

"Mommy! It's her!" Anna exclaimed.

"Hi, Anna!" the girl trilled, also happy, and gave Anna an immediate quick hug. (Mommy melted at the easy hug...and was massively impressed that the girl already knew--and remembered--Anna's name. Some people have it, even at 4 or 5...and some people--like me, like Anna--don't. ;o))

"Don't forget to ask her name," I whispered in Anna's ear.

"What's your name?" Anna dutifully and happily asked.

"I'm L!" the girl answered. Double relief, I thought. We can both remember that one easily, since it's Anna's middle name.

Friendship reconnected (Mommy triply relieved and hopeful to note that L's mommy seemed nice too), we all turned back to stowing backpacks and waiting our turn to go in the classroom door.

Check-in was quick and Anna's new teacher gave her her name tag, showed her where to put her new crayons. Hand sanitizer was dispensed and Mommy pointed out the options for free time--toys, painting, puzzles, meeting new friends. Puzzles were the first (and closest) choice.


And since it's our third time around for this, there were no tears, no clinginess, and nothing but happiness to be in her new preschool classroom at last.

I gave her some kisses; reminded her to be a good girl, listen, and not talk when the teachers are talking; and slipped out the door with a last "Have fun!"

I peeked back in at her from the hallway, noting another little girl who was burying her face in her mommy's shoulder, arms and legs wrapped like a pretzel around her mommy as they sat in a miniature chair; some other parents lingering around the sides of the room, smiling or looking worried. I remembered our own variation on the clinginess, her fear, when Anna first started preschool almost two years ago in December 2007, a few months after she turned three and the first time she'd been left with someone other than immediate family in almost two years. The only saving grace then was that her older cousin, B, was also at the same preschool and Anna could shadow along after her gregarious, outgoing cousin during open playtime after dropoff--the only time when the two separate classes were blended together and the only time she had her cousin as a buffer.

I was brought back to the present this morning when Anna spied me still in the hallway, beamed a huge smile at me, and called out, simply, "Bye, Mommy!" And then she turned back to the cars she was now playing with on the rug, Mommy already an afterthought. I walked out the door with a smile on my face and a laugh on my heart at how easy this is now with a five-year-old. I briefly chatted and laughed with another mom--a more uncertain one, of a three-year-old little boy who was placed by the teachers in a class for four- and five-year-olds--as we walked back to our cars.

I drove away, thinking that I could get used to this.

But...

...That isn't to say that I didn't note the hallmarks of our slightly different life at our new preschool too. That I didn't see the other moms ushering in their preschoolers, with an infant in a baby carrier slung over a bent forearm, and feel a jab in my heart. That I didn't note the mommy + daddy + preschooler + baby combinations at the orientation Thursday night, didn't feel the familiar sting of sadness as I walked in their literal and figurative shadow.

It wasn't supposed to be like this, I can't help but think. Seeing the babies I think, That's how we were supposed to be too. Dropping Anna off, her baby brother or sister asleep in the baby carrier, Daddy waiting at home in the evening to hear all about the first day of preschool.

It's still there, still hurts. It's not as bad as it used to be and it passes far faster than it ever used to in the first year or two after Charley died. But even still, even at four years into this journey and doing this "first" first day of school for the third time, I still notice. I suspect that will never change.

But...now it's time to go pick Anna up and hear all about her first day. Hooray, it's fall!! =)