When we started pre-school this fall, I was anxious. I kept Neko out of school when she was three. I hadn't really found a program I felt good about and she was far from ready. I could barely keep her focused enough to take her dishes to the sink, much less be part of a classroom environment.
By the time she turned four she seemed ready, but I still worried. She was keeping herself under control more and more, but there were the inevitable meltdowns, and when they occurred, they were a full-on disaster. I had a conference before the year began, prepping the staff and discussing methodology and how best to deal with her personality.
But the meltdown never happened. She blossomed. She talked about what she'd learned and things she'd seen and friends she'd made. That last one, being especially important. She made friends who were GIRLS, something she'd had little experience with up until this point in her life.
I scoffed a bit at this whole idea of a ceremony for graduation. I mean, really, it's just preschool, right? But smack in the middle of it all, I found myself getting a bit teary-eyed. And not that she was wearing this miniature cap with a tassel, but like all graduations, it really was a reminder of how far we'd come. My crazy, untamed wild child was there in line with everyone else, smiling and singing and giggling with friends.
I give a great deal of the credit to the extraordinary Ms. Julie. I am hesitant when it comes to handing my children over to educators. Perhaps it's because I'm the daughter of teachers, but I am so painfully aware of how much your child is shaped by the people who teach them that it's not a decision I make lightly. She has been amazing from the first day to the last.
From here we head to kindergarten. I feel as though we're blazing new territory there as well. Her friends are scattering to different schools and grades, so it'll be like wearing a new pair of shoes—unfamiliar, yet exciting.
But after this year? I think we're up for the challenge.