“I can’t believe I have to wake up this early. *ON MY BIRTHDAY NO LESS*” I thought as I schlepped down the hall, eyes not quite fully open yet. Today is your first day of Pre-K, a small but distinct difference from last year’s pre-school, this means a few things but most notably that next year you’ll be in kindergarten. All day long, five days a week. *SOB* As I open your door I see you laying there, curls a muss, long dark lashes resting on your cheeks, arms clutching Cupcake’s no-longer-stuffed neck. I rub your back and muster all the hushed excitement I can, “Olivia! It’s time to wake up! Today is the first day of school!” You rolled back and forth and back and forth again, with what must have been the world’s longest yawn. Looking a little confused—probably because you’re normally the one waking me up. You look up at me through barely cracked eyelids and lay your hand on my knee ever so gently and with your nose scrunched up in what would be a condescending way if you were an adult, “Can you just do this for me today mom, I’m a little too tired to wake up.” An oddly familiar phrase—what can I say we aren’t morning people and my faked excitement fell flat.
You did eventually get out of bed and as we got ready you chattered excitedly “What do my new friends look like?” “Can I pack a lunch in my Cinderella lunch box-or is that only for when it’s my turn to bring a snack?” “MOM! Today is you birthday! I’m going to make you a present because I love you SOOO much! I’m going to draw you a picture that is the most perfect, perfect, perfectest thing I can think of for you.” I thought to myself, “You see this isn’t so bad, this is exciting and fun and not sad at all! I’m doing it! I’m keeping it together. Pro status confirmed.” Fast forward 2 minutes and 15 seconds later in the car, when a lump appears in my throat. You know, the kind where all of a sudden you can’t get air to your lungs. That’s when I realize my brain had been tricking me and this first day of school business is never going to be easy or fun.
As we pulled in, you said, ““I’m going to miss Ms. Christy and Ms. Brooke.” As I unbuckled you in the parking lot you asked for a kiss, as I unbuckled your brother you told me, “Mom, I think I might need another kiss.” Anytime baby, as I worry that maybe you aren’t that excited and maybe you too are a little nervous. That thought quickly disappeared as you ran into your new classroom, up to your never-before-seen teachers and excitedly showed each of them your pink sparkly nails, found your seat and started coloring without so much as looking back.
While a little sad—This year I didn’t publicly bawl my eyes out as I’m armed with the knowledge that:
1. You’re so much cooler than I ever was—so confident, and out-going. You’re going to be fine, have fun, make friends and learn a ton. Without a doubt.
2. By day two , maybe day three I too will be excited, running out the door and not looking back.
3.Your brother just pooped and OMG I have to get him out of here before anyone dies.
You’ve consistently told us you want to be “A Star” when you grow up and we laugh because WHERE do you get these things!?!? While simultaneously trying not to gag because ugh. Hopefully that “star” changes from a noun to an adjective.
This is all the sappy stuff I have time for this morning--just as I was rationalizing, “At least I’ll get a little peace and quiet!” Your brother learned how to say Mom, so, so much for that. Shine bright my little star.
Shamless. First Day of School and Birthday Girl selfies.