First Day of First Grade...in room 1

She's official. Big kid in the house, baby. Having been doing things all summer "because I'm a first-grader now," she has taken the cloak for real. The morning started with a visit from the Backpack Fairy. My kid is obsessed, to an alarming degree, with getting mail so when I asked her to put something in the recycle today she absolutely hooted with joy when she found a package on the doorstep addressed to her. She was so excited to tear into it, lovely. It was just some trinkety stuff; a necklace, a pencil, a treat, some stuff like that. And, the bane of primary teachers everywhere...a digital watch. She's been wanting one for a while and was thrilled to get it. Go ahead, ask me how long she kept it. Uh-huh. "Mrs. Stamey said to put it in my backpack." Were you messing with it like we talked about? "No! I just had to set the time. And see if the light worked." Uh-huh.













Anyway, so after the mandatory pictures, we packed her into the car and her dad and I, who had both taken time off to start her on this new adventure with our full support, drove her to school. All excited, we walked to her room, and were promptly booted out by her teacher! She wasn't allowing parents in the room, clean break and all that. Not knowing this, we hadn't said goodbye or anything outside and when poor Trueby realized we'd ditched her her little face just crumpled up. If you have a little kid you know that look, she's gonna cry but wants desperately to be brave and not do it in front of people. Heartbreaking. Later she says, "I wiped my tears on my jacket." That sentence makes my stomach hurt. Of course she's fine. Of course she has buddies in there and was immediately busy. She says she had a great day, loves first grade, and her teacher is "really nice." I know. But that didn't keep me from seeing that face all day long!
Here's the problem. Being a teacher, I am desperately afraid of being "That Mom." You know the one. Anything you do that isn't the way she would do it is wrong. Now, anyone who knows me in the slightest knows without a doubt I am the textbook definition of "That Mom." I accept that. I try crazy hard not to let it leak out on people, but I get that it's me. So when my eye almost explodes that I'm not able to settle my kid in and, knowing how she does not take well to change, help her feel secure and ready, I am able to admit that the teacher knows what she's doing, my kid is fine, everything is fine.....breathe deeply. But I certainly don't like it!