Back to School Milestones

Last year, when Izzi started Kindergarten, it was a year of firsts. Every single thing seemed new and exciting. On the first day of First Grade this year, I thought I might be more emotional but I was more excited this year than anything else. This was BIG girl school, not a practice run for what's to come.

During orientation with the new teacher, she explained that the first week of school, we were welcome to walk the kids into the classroom to help them get acclimated but by week 2, we were strongly urged to let our kids walk into the classroom on their own. Of course, some parents probably haven't been able to let that happen yet but we were already at this place last year so it didn't take Iz long to acclimate this year. In fact, she wouldn't even LET us come into the classroom on the first day. She kindly blocked me with her hand when I went to follow behind her into the classroom. She told me, "No, Mommy, I can do it."

A week later and I wanted to fast-track the drop-off process to get to the place we were at the end of last year. I would walk her into the school building but let her walk the long halls to her classroom on her own. It pained me to watch her turn the corner where I couldn't see her any longer, but I slowly adjusted, even if she was adjusting leaps and bounds ahead of schedule.

We started just our second week of First Grade yesterday. I drove her to school and only walked her inside the school walls and let her meander to class on her own. She did great. I did too. Only one lonely tear slid down my cheek but thankfully I had my big sunglasses that day so nary a person probably noticed.

Today, we took it a step further and we did the car drop-off line for the first time. This is where you pull up into a special drop-off car lane and some 5th grader opens the door for your kid, helps them out with their bookbag, and closes the door for them making sure they make it to the sidewalk safely which will usher them into their institute of learning.

I had to plan this just right because when I typically walk her in, we linger for a few moments and give a few extra hugs, some "kissing hands" (if you haven't read the joyous book "The Kissing Hand" by Audrey Penn, it's a must for any parent and child who is starting school for the first time. In the car drop-off line though, there is no lingering allowed. They are militant in their expediency to keep the line moving. And I get that, but I'm not giving up my kissing hands just yet. So we have a system already in place. As soon as I turn into the parking lot, she is allowed to take off her seat belt (since we're moving at a snail's pace in a line of cars anyway). She can stand up and we can start our lingering moments then. We hold hands, she gives me a kiss on my cheek, I give her one back. And then when the car comes to a stop, I get to give her my usual drop-off bear hug and of course, our kissing hands. Then she's yanked out of the car by a 10-year-old and whisked off to start her day.

Such a brave girl, there was no crying today on this big "first" step. And Izzi didn't cry either...

Kindergarten!

Izzi's first day of Kindergarten was today. I didn't think this whole Kindergarten thing was going to affect me that much. I mean, the kid's been in daycare since she was 3 months old. And, she's been in 5 different daycare places over those 5 years so she is used to having to start out at a new place.

So it surprised me this week when I found myself really quite emotional. And I know it's not because she's "leaving" us, it's because she's growing up so very fast. Too fast for my liking. This is the first day of REAL school. That preschool stuff is for amateurs. We now have daily take-home folders, homework, calendars with tons of events, a PTA and administration to navigate, and so many other surprises yet to be uncovered.

Last Friday, we got 2 letters in the mail from school. Both were from Izzi's new teacher, Mrs. Uzzillia. One was written to her, the other to me and Ed. And that's the culprit that caused my first breakdown. I sniffled and weeped into a balled up fist of tissues like I'd sprung a leak. Then I pulled myself together, kicked myself for being soft, and proceeded to have yet another great family weekend full of fun, friends, and sunshine.

Monday was the open house, for an hour during lunch. Mrs. Uzzillia put us parents to work! We had an 18-point checklist we had to accomplish within 30 minutes in her classroom which included filling out forms, navigating the classroom, unpacking our school supplies, and reading some lists she had placed around the room. One of the last items on our checklist was to take the postcard that was provided in one of three folders she handed us, and write a first-day-of-school note to our child. Mrs. Uzzillia was going to read them all out loud on the first day (Tuesday) to the class. Well, I didn't get past "Dear Izzi" when Ed was plying me with a well-stocked hand full of tissues once again. I then proceeded to sniffle the entire 30 minutes the poor teacher was talking to us all, because of that damned note.

So that brings us to Tuesday. The first day of school. The day I was now dreading because of all this crazy crying I'd been doing all week. But today was different. Today, I knew she was nervous so I knew I had to hold my stuff together until I got out of there so she didn't see it.

But the whole walk to school, she was skipping down the sidewalk (clearly not nervous). And she marched right into class and took over. She remembered where her lunchbox went, where her backpack get stored in her cubby, where her desk was with her name proudly displayed. She sat down with a smile and looked in her new pencil box with all her supplies (I used to love school supplies when I was a kid). There was a piece of paper on her desk asking her to draw a picture of herself on the first day of Kindergarten. She immediately got to work, and paused for a moment and said, "Mommy? I'm not nervous at all anymore!". Which of course, made me bawl my eyes out. 

I was good, though, I did wait until later so she didn't see me. But, I'm still crying about it now as I type this.

My big, brave, girl. You amaze me every day. You are SO gonna rock this Kindergarten thang.

Make Believe Boulevard

Isabelle's new school is called "The Learning Experience". They only had a 3-day program spot available for now so she goes Monday, Wednesday and Thursday. Summer camp starts next week and she'll start the 5-day per week program (hooooorrayyyyyy!!!!).

Summer Camp there is uber-cool, there are 2 water days every week (splish splash, not swimming in a pool). They have themes every week so the kids will learn while they play and play while they learn (I love it!).

She will probably continue there in the Fall for her PreK-4 program (TBD based on where we buy a house). But this place is pretty amazing. It has this room/area/town called "Make Believe Boulevard" which is a mini-replica of "Main Street USA". They have a Fire House, Police Station, Restaurant, Grocery Store, House, Doctor's Office, Gas Station, etc. etc. etc.

Each mini-building is two-stories tall. The "street" has a staircase on the far right side so you can go "upstairs" in each of the buildings. If you keep walking along the corridor "upstairs" then you get rewarded with a curved sliding board at the end of the street that lands in a ball pit for extra giggly fun.

They don't get to go to "Make Believe Boulevard" every day, I'm learning it is used as a reward for group good behavior. So I'm hoping they get to go more often because Isabelle loves it and talks about it all afternoon after a trip to the big MBB.

I wouldn't mind hanging out there myself one of these fine days. I need me some make believe right about now.

Click, Clack, Clique

I chaperoned Isabelle's first Field Trip today, to the County Fair, and I felt like I woke up in a bad dream, back on the grade school playground for the first time, wondering who would be my friend in an uncertain world. Why did none of my girlfriends warn me of the Preschool Mom Cliques that I was going to encounter?

There are 12 kids in Izzi's class, and I think I counted 6 chaperones? I figured, naively, that all 12 kids, 2 teachers, and 6 chaperones would hang out together today, getting to know one another, comparing stories, and sharing a few laughs. I was mistaken. Boy, was I mistaken.

When the kids got off the bus, each chaperone was handed their own child, plus a random kid they've never met with enough tickets to get in the gate.

All the chaperones were off and running with their kids, as I stood at the gate looking very perplexed. Did I miss the memo? Did they hand out an itinerary and I didn't get one? Where are we supposed to meet up?

I found the teacher and asked her what the plan was and she simply said, "Have fun! This is kind of how our Field Trips go, all the chaperones just do whatever the kids want to do. We don’t try to stick together. Just meet back at the bus at 11:20.”

I looked at my phone and saw 9:02 on the display. Two. Hours. Eighteen. Minutes. To. Go.

So off I went, a solo adult with two 3-year-old girls, in a sea of amped up Preschoolers and dazed chaperones. We made our way up the hill through the vendors who were opening their booths for the day. Isabelle’s friend (let’s call her Betsy) asked me to buy her every toy and piece of sugar we passed. I had to kindly say no and try to divert the girls’ attention to something else…like the next vendor…offering sugar…and plastic garbage…only to say no again.

I ran into a pair of Moms who were chaperoning their own 2 girls plus a third. I thought it would be fun for the girls to hang out together so I introduced myself to one of the Moms who was closest to me when standing at the pigpen (literally, a pen full of 200-pound hogs).

I simply said, “Hi, I’m Jen, Isabelle’s Mom.” She literally looked at me, said “Hi”, and turned her back and walked away. No introduction. No joke. Thanks for playing, but your kind isn’t welcome here.

This was the same Mom who was at Back-to-School night last week and made a snide remark about how “working Moms” should not volunteer their time if they aren’t serious about helping out.

As I found out, these 3 girls from class knew each other (and had been friends) before they got to this school. Enter the Premiere Preschool Mom Clique. I think I’m on the other side of that Iron Curtain, at least until the Cold war ends.

I had to laugh as she walked away with a slurp of pig s#it on her cork wedge sandals. Watch out, Mom Clique #1. Just wait ‘til I recruit my posse.