This week marks the start of school. Daniel is in second grade, which he is totally taking in stride. He brought home his first homework assignment this afternoon. He felt quite proud and important to have homework and immediately took it to his room to complete before he even asked for his after-school snack. (You think that enthusiasm will last for the next ten years? As if.)
Anya, of course, started kindergarten, and after three days...well, she and I are still adjusting. She has been excited about starting school all summer. She was placed with the teacher she wanted, and while we didn't know any of the other kids in her class already, it seems to be a really good, interesting group of children. She's been a kindergartener for three days now, and for all three days she has woken up early, been ready and eager to walk out the door, has run up the hill to school with her big brother and his best friend...and promptly fallen apart when it was time to say goodbye at the sound of the morning bell.
Honestly, I fully anticipated that I would melt into tears, too. I barely kept it together her last day of preschool in June. I've been nervous about the start of KG all summer long. But the first day of school, despite her anxiety at saying goodbye, I was pretty okay with all of it. Stuart, not so much. When her lower lip started to quiver and she reached out for yet another hug, he went right back again and again, and I think if I hadn't said, "We just need to go," he might have followed her into the classroom.
Yesterday and today, the same thing happened. Getting to school was just fine, but then saying goodbye was a little rough. I went into her classroom this morning to volunteer for an hour or so, and when I left we had to go through it all for a second time: "Bye mom. *sniff* I love you mom. *sniffle* Bye mom. *voice quavering* I really love you, mom."
At the end of the day, she had a giant grin on her face, and happily ran off to play with another kid while we waited for Daniel's class to come out of the school. I don't know how long this separation anxiety will go on, but I know she'll be fine. The same thing happened for months when she was in preschool, so it could take a while. I guess having been through this already, I'm not too worried about it.
I'm already sick of the question, "So what are you doing with all your hours of free time now??!!" As if I suddenly have nothing to do but sit around eating bonbons all day. As if the laundry suddenly started washing itself, dinner appeared on the table on its own, the plumber showed up to fix that leak in the basement on his own, and after nearly six years out of school/the workforce a job suddenly fell in my lap. People, it's only day 3. I'm still figuring this out, too.