What we do all day

First Day of School

This summer while we were watching the women’s Olympic  gymnastics, Sydney said with a furrowed little brow, “Mom, I don’t think those girls have mommies and daddies.” I guess she was envisioning this as some sad show of orphaned girls performing for audiences. I asked her why she thought they didn’t have parents and she replied, “Because they aren’t there! I don’t see them anywhere!” For Sydney’s first 5 ½ years, her reality was that Mom or Dad was always there. Yes, she went to pre-school two, then three times a week and we left her with Grandma or a babysitter from time to time, but her main reality was our presence. Last spring, she didn’t like ballet because she went into the studio alone, behind closed doors. She said she just wanted to be with her family. So, with starting kindergarten this week, even though it’s only 3 hours a day, her world has shifted to one more like those gymnasts; mommy and daddy aren’t quite as visibly present.

On the big day, she was dressed and ready to go, backpack on, by 8:30, even though we didn’t need to leave until 12:30 or so. Luckily, our good friends came over with first day of school treats for the kids and they had new school supplies, big fun cones and treats to distract them for a few hours.

We were able to walk to school together the first day, just the two of us, and the teacher was kind enough to have parents stay for that first short day. As we walked along hand-in-hand, her little grip getting tighter and tighter as we neared the building, I told her that part of the reason I make her a first day of school dress is so if she feels a little bit scared or sad, she can look down at her dress and remember how much her mommy loves her. She brought our hands to her cheek and said, “awh. Mom, you’re going to make me cry.” Of course, I barely made it through that sentence without my own voice cracking.

A few minutes later, we ran into her little buddy on the walking path beside the school and they literally ran into each other’s arms, backpacks flying behind them and I finally got a first day of school picture with her big, real smile. After that she was fine, even when the parents all went into a different room for info and she played sorting games. (I could write a whole other essay about how much I love her teacher, especially because she answered every little question that had been rolling around in my head, without me ever having to ask and she coached us all on getting through the first drop off. But I’ll save my love note to Mrs. B. for another day.)

We walked home hand in hand again, but she was so excited that as we neared home, she took off running and flying her arms ahead of me. That’s the picture I want to keep in my mind about her first day of school. Her gleefully letting go of my hand and trying to fly.

She's off!

This weekend we had one of those small-thing moments that feel really big, or maybe it's the other way around. We pulled out the big, two-wheel bike for Sydney that I'd found for free outside the Colfax Grandma shop on one of my morning walks and Nick took her for a few laps around the car in the driveway in her pajamas to start the fun. Her face lit up in that proud state of glee that I love so much on her face. That moment alone was so grand after a week of scrapes and bruises, physical and emotional for our little girl.

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We got up on Saturday morning and I thought we'd spend the day up at the pre-school parking lot practicing her skills. I figured this would take some time, some scrapes, some patience. She was outfitted in all of her scooter protective gear, ready for battle. So, I held onto the bike and gave Sydney some general tips: swing your leg over the back. get one peddle up in front to get going on and use your other foot to push off... I got her going once and her steering was all crazy, so I told her to look farther ahead. We did that one more time, with her looking up eager for her next instructions. The third time I got her going, let go and she had it.(This is a testament to the powers of a scoot bike, not so much her mad athletetic skills.) She was off in big circles of little girl happiness, her hair flying from under the helmet, her smile so big it almost didn't fit on her little face.

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It's hard to describe the joy I felt then. She was riding in big lazy circles, adding in some singing and tricks and I felt her joy fill me up and overflow. I was actually blinking back tears as I watched her ride looking so free and happy, so filled up with pride that she could do something cool all on her own. Plus, the sun was out, birds were chirping...oh and Elias was whining behind me because I wouldn't push him on his bike.

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That afternoon Sydney really wanted to show Nick her skills, but he was tired and rundown and I could tell he kind of wanted to curl up with the clicker and be done for the day. I kind of forced the issue and we all trekked up to the pre-school again. This time, instead of watching Sydney's face, I watched her daddy's. In an instant all the stress and exhaustion was gone and replaced by a huge smile; I suppose it was the same look I had on my face that morning. He kept saying, "This is amazing! Did you get pictures? Did you get a video?" Ah the markers, of a proud parent.

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With the end of pre-school almost here and kindergarten just a few months off, this moment with the bike took on a little more meaning. It felt symbolic to let go of that bike seat and stand back, grinning with tears in our eyes to watch her tackle something big and new and succeed. It was one of those moments in childhood and parenthood that mark out territory, a before and after. I don't know if it's a real memory or not, but I remember the feeling of my dad letting go of my bike seat, the rush of independence and glee, and it's a beautiful thing to be on the other side of the seat, glowing, with that memory alongside me.

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It's a wonderful thing to be a parent in moments like these and I'm officially looking forward to our early, long summer leading up to kindergarten. I am sure we will be found most mornings down on the path around the playfields if you ever want to find us. I'm really hoping that her glow doesn't fade as she gets used to the feeling of riding off on her own.

She's 5!

After months and months of looking forward to this big milestone, my little girl is now officially big. She's looking forward to kindergarten in the fall, ballet classes this winter and hours of riding her new razor scooter in her hot pink tutu.

I still think that 4 was the most perfect age and I tried really hard to convince her to stay 4 forever. She said no, but she promised that even when she's as big as me and we share clothes, I can still call her baby. phew.
(Photo credit: I shamelessly stole the first two photos off my sil's blog. She captured my girl so well!)