Syd started school yesterday. I've been with her solid for more than two months. I was ready. She wasn't.
Traveling and interruptions in routine have her off. That, and I didn't do enough preparing for the newness. She did fine in day care, I know she'll do fine in Montessori. It's freaking Montessori. She's bigger than she was on that rough first day of day care. We talk about being bigger all the time. Her birthday was coming for weeks. It was always soon. She tells me she's a big girl.
School scared the shit out of her. I was too excited for it starting to even consider what was happening to her. She adjusted well to living in the Airstream, she was darling at her grandparents house, she was even a shining example of toddler-hood to her cousin. (She taught her to count toes! They jumped on the bed! Watching her be the big kid was so cool!)
She did not make a positive first impression. That made me immediately fearful of being labeled as a - fill in the blank with your preferred negative adjective - mom. I picked her up less than an hour after we dropped her off. Her teacher explained the hour and I knew it hadn't gone well and she was speaking in Spanish and I could kind of follow but got frustrated by my inability to understand ... had to admit I couldn't. Shamed. By myself, really, but am convinced the teacher is adding another negative association to my face.
It was only a fucking hour.
The days are still hot and drag and I have work to do. Hustle, hustle, hustle. I talked to Syd about school being exciting and fun. Her teacher likes her! There are fun boys and girls in the class! There is "no lloras" at school. No crying. I had a hiccup as a parent and felt crappy about it.
She was perfectly pleasant all evening. There was no fussing or fighting. She ate. She played independently. She seemed cautiously optimistic about going to school again. She was being a big girl.
I was staring at the computer trying to fit in some of the things on the never ending to-do list when she called to me from her bedroom. She still goes down in her pack'n'play. Her touches touch the edge and she's just about too big. Figuring out a bedrail system for the twin bed is somewhere in the middle of that to-do list. I went into her room and leaned into her bed. She reached up and started rubbing my eyebrows. She asked me to sing a song so I sang the one I made up about Daddy.
"Will you pick me up and hold me and sing sunshine?" she asked.
I picked up my three-year-old and held her and softly sang you are my sunshine. She melted me. My big girl isn't so little any more and bless her heart, my little girl is getting so big.