So it has happened: The Biggie has started kindergarten. I have such seesawing, ambivalent feelings on this subject. On the one hand, YEEHA! Less work! Less guilt about not responding to her every intellectual query! Etc, etc. On the other hand, YIKES! My baby is with relative strangers for thirty hours a week! My baby is riding, UNSEATBELTED, in a bus with twenty other screaming (and bigger) kids! What about her fear of imaginary violent play? What if she can’t get her overalls unstrapped when she has to go to the bathroom?
For the first two days, I put her on the bus, rode to the school to meet the bus and bring her to her classroom, and did the reverse at the end of the day. On the first day, the bus actually beat me home. Can you imagine that—me huffing and puffing with the Wee One behind me in the little bike seat, dying of humiliation when I was NOT THERE TO MEET MY CHILD OFF THE BUS ON HER VERY FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL. Many caring friends and relatives having convinced me that this is a sappy, ridiculous gesture, I put her on the bus this morning, stayed home, and am now waiting for her to arrive. She is ok with this, I think. I’m not sure if I am.
She has some concerns. She is worried that they are not learning anything—I think she thought she would already know how to read books by now. On Friday, when we were walking home (because she decided NOT to ride the bus that day), she started sniffling. Ah, here it is, I thought—the expected mental breakdown, the stress and trauma of it being just too much time away. “I missed you all day,” she said through tears. “I know, honey, is that why you’re crying?” I patted her on the back. “No—I’m crying because I can’t go back to school for two whole days!” She likes being so big, and buying chocolate milk at lunch (though I don’t think she drinks it). And she likes sitting at the peanut-free table with her allergic friend.
On the whole, I think it is a good thing, though we are all going through adjustments. The Wee One is having the worst time of all of us, I think—she’s just not used to being alone with boring old me. All day long, it’s “Me go, see Biggie at Biggie’s park!” (That’s what she calls the playground at school.) She calls for her as she falls asleep for her nap, and the first thing she says when she wakes up is “Biggie COME HOME!”
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So she comes home, and what’s the first thing she says? “Kindergarten is AWESOME! I want to ride the bus EVERY DAY!”
An era is over.
6 comments:
Ah, the first day of school. Must be odd experiencing it from "the other side," as it were. I remember on my first day of school I walked into a shrub (I've never been known for my ability to recognize spatial relationships) and disturbed a bees' nest and was stung right through my thick, Catholic school knee sock. My mom freaked out cuz I'd never been stung before, and I spent most of the morning having various ointments applied.
So for the earlier question, I would definitely say bees are braver.
You know, I came to the same conclusion, though I think I came up with some sort of "Bees have brains and rain doesn't" explanation.
Catholic school knee sock! I never would have imagined it.
I know I rarely comment, Linnie, but I want you to know that Nicole and I both love all of the bon mots your children come up with. It is my fervent hope that Sofia ends up being as intelligent and hilarious.
As for the question at hand, I agree with your reasoning regarding bees having brains, but I came to the opposite conclusion. Because rain has no brain and therefore no sense of self-preservation, it is willing to do things that a living creature would not, even things that would result it its ultimate loss of self, e.g., plummeting directly onto a hot sidewalk and evaporating. Given a choice between dying and not dying, a bee is going to choose to not die. If I have to choose someone to be in my foxhole when things start to get ugly, I think I'd pick rain.
On the other hand, you could arguably attribute this reckless behavior to rain's inability to change direction rather than a mental process (or lack thereof). Further, it is hard to call an action "brave" when the party doesn't know what they are doing. I'm unconcerned by these points, however. I mainly just love the fact that I have been induced into this line of reasoning by a newly-minted kindergartener.
P.S. I remember nothing about my first day of school, other than the fact that I wore a green Izod shirt.
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No posting things like an era is over - do not make me cry woman! I am a little choked up at the image of little Biggie buying chocolate milk!
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