First (half) day of school

I don't remember many of my first days of school. I remember going off to kindergarten (very excited), and I remember my stomach hurting probably around 6th grade (nervous). I do remember my first night at Derby Lite, both excited and nervous (both about entering a new group of women and skating, which I hadn't done in a VERY long time!), so those feelings of beginning something new really don't change.

I don't remember how my mom felt on the first days of school (and I certainly don't know what she would think of Derby Lite). I don't remember her making jokes, giving me hints for a better year, or making me feel better when I was anxious. I don't know if it was very emotional for her or not. But lordy, I am so emotional about it with my girls. My "baby", A., is in 1st grade. It so much more independent than kindergarten. She's excited about eating lunch at school, and recess. She is always begging to have friends over (I wonder where this very social child came from). G. is in 3rd grade, and I'm thinking ahead to middle school, and how much more socially difficult school can be for older girls. For some reason 3rd grade seems like a turning point to me. I'm hoping we make the turn!

I feel myself tearing up as I walk A. into her classroom, and sort her supplies with her. Again, as I read the note her teacher sent home. As I see G. walk out of the school in her super-mod dress and rolling backpack looking so much older then when she started 2nd grade, my throat gets lumpy. Seeing all of the kids I've been seeing since G. was in kindergarten, now with their little sisters and brothers in school too hits me harder than I would imagine.

I want so much for G. and A.: to enjoy school, to love learning, to have friends, and to grow up into smart, creative, loving young women. Most of all to be happy with themselves and know that they are just who they are supposed to be.

Leaving school today after their first half day today it hits me that they are, in fact, growing up and away, albeit a very little bit at a time, but inexorably. My job is less and less to protect them and more and more to prepare them. Tissue, anyone?