Sylvia is officially a kindergartner! She sported that big-ass hideous Dora backpack like a real trooper. No tears and no separation anxiety. After her first day, she reported that "the other kids thought I was the teacher" and "they have one million dress-up outfits." I will take that as a positive report.
Her teacher has major Weird Beard potential, as evidenced by her creepy in-home visit a few weeks back, during which she audibly gasped that we weren't Lutheran (oh, man, I hope she went right home and prayed for us; that usually works) and she claimed that I was "running a circus." This from a K-3 teacher, mind you. Wow.
I am not going to lie. Tears did not stream down my face as is the obligatory norm. I felt immense pride at her fearlessness and independence, her quiet determination. Does it make me daft that I don't understand parents' inability to let their kids grow up? It is titillating (as is using that word in context! yes!)to see that the hard work you've put in as a parent has paid off, that you've helped to nurture that sense of identity in your child. Nice work, Syl. Nice work, Me.
Tomorrow I send Jack off to first grade. The anticipation has opened up a surprising flood of tears and drama for the little guy. My perspective of his thought process goes like this: HOLY SHIT, I HAVE LIKE 20 MORE YEARS OF FULL-TIME SCHOOL [you'll note that I have added in the additional schooling required for extensive post-doc education]. THAT SUCKS! But his is probably more like: NOW I CAN ONLY BUILD LEGOS FOR LIKE 6 HOURS A DAY AND HARASS MY BROTHER ONLY LIKE 4. THAT SUCKS! Either way, I can completely understand his reticence.
Lots on the horizon for me, too. I am about to pull the trigger professionally for a job I am amped about, but I have that first-grader mentality in me, too. OH, MAN, 30 HOURS A WEEK?! THAT SUCKS! WHAT ABOUT FACEBOOK? WHAT ABOUT BAKING COOKIES AND LEISURELY STROLLS? I need to tighten up and pull myself together, the same advice I give Jack, and do what needs to be done.
