School

Bela's first day

This week has been momentous in our household. Bela started first grade, and Mae had her first day back at preschool. Dropping Mae off yesterday was a comforting effort - the familiar play yard, the beautiful classrooms filled with natural toys and soft colors and warm corners. When you walk into that school you feel like you're walking into a really great story, one that doesn't try too hard but always ends up inspiring and easing you along its winding paths.

Mae's first day

She gave her beloved teacher an enormous hug and received one back in return. She quickly sat down, removed her shoes, put on her slippers, and got down to the business of looking for changes in her old classroom. There is a wall missing now, so the teachers can see out into the play area while making the morning snack. There is a glorious tree sculpted around what used to be just a pipe running the vertical span of the wall. There are new "woolies" (sheepskins) scattered on the floor, an extra wool rug, and lots of crazy little kids to fill her old familiar space.

Dropping Bela off this week has been quite different. I won't lie....there have been tears, and it wasn't Bela who was crying. I won't embarrass him by admitting that Chris cried too, I will only say that most of the tears have been from me myself.

On the one hand, this has been very exciting for her, and she has taken on this new can-do, grown-up attitude that causes Chris and I to share secret glances of  wonder and humor. She talks older, she dresses older, and when she comes home from school she fixes a snack for her and Mae. Yesterday? Blueberries, roasted almonds, peach and graham crackers dipped in milk.

She loves to sit down and do her homework with me after dinner. We read books and record them in her log; we play number games, work on flash cards (words she "should have learned in kindergarten") and just sort of sit in wonder at how fast she is growing.

On the other hand, the extreme institutionalism of her new school is entirely opposite of what she is used to. She has a uniform (which we are trying our best to conform to, with a few exceptions for handmade sweaters that aren't quite navy blue). She has a large packet of homework to complete every week. They start their day with two hours of seated reading time, and then move on to math. Gym class, art, and those other "special but not terribly important" classes will be offered later, once a week each. There doesn't seem to be time for recess but her teacher found time to show them The Lion King in its entirety on the second day of class.

Bela wants to work hard. She loves making friends. She loves being the "good girl." She earned a golden ticket for good behavior yesterday and you would have thought she won a trip to Willy Wonka's factory. But she complains of feeling sleepy, of wanting to put her head down on her table and rest because it is so much hard work. And as I sit and listen to her recount her day I try to hide my public school anxiety.

This will be ok. I know we will make it work. The worst thing I could do right now would be to share my fears with my daughter, so I will keep them to myself and just.... wait and see. In the meantime, we will continue to race after her as she rides her bike the three blocks to school every morning, and we will be there to pick her up and do her homework with her when she comes home at the end of the day.

When in the world did I become old enough to have a first grader?