My daughters dance teacher, Miss Micki, passed this along to me 2 years ago when Hannah first started kindergarten. Miss Micki's daughter wrote this about her daughter Hannah...
I knew I was in trouble earlier this summer when I was thinking about the day I would walk Hannah into the classroom and hug her goodbye.
All of a sudden, the tears poured down.
I realized that if I was sobbing just thinking about it, her first day of kindergarten was going to be tough.
What is the big deal? It's just kindergarten. It's not like she's going away to college or getting married. She's one of millions of kids across the nation starting the big K.
But, for some reason, this day conjures up strong emotions in a parent. Maybe it's because the kids are going to be gone for five days out of seven.
Since Hannah was born, I've been lucky to be able to work part time so I can be with her most of the week. Suddenly, so much more is going to be out of my control: The bully may scare her, the snob may hurt her feelings, the teacher may inadvertently cause a part of her to withdraw.
No... she can handle these things. She's excited about being around playmates every day. During our last week together before school started, she chose gymnastics class at the YMCA over going to the playground with Mommy. "But Mommy," she told me, "you can go excercise" - as if I'm the one needing convincing that it's OK for us to be apart.
She's smart. She's outgoing. She's confident. She's going to take off, and she can't wait.
I've come to realize why I cry thinking about this day: A part of her is gone forever (OK, here come the tears again). It's an official ending to one part of her life and the beginning of another.
Her legs will never again wrap so snugly around me as they did when I held her on my hip as a baby. She won't flub her words in that adorable way toddlers do. Or ask those funny questions that preschoolers always come up with such as, "Is that where Taco Bell is?" when pointing out the United States on a globe.
That baby and toddler are just memories now.
At a back-to-school social we attended last Sunday, I looked at the other girls in her class and thought they looked so much older than Hannah.
Then she stood next to them, and it hit me. She's a big girl now.
It's not that I want her to be little forever. It's just part of loving her so much.
So on Wednesday, wearing her monogrammed backpack full of school supplies and a lunchbox, she put her not-so-tiny hand in mine and we walked up the concrete steps through the big, wooden double doors.
I felt the tears coming, but I held them back. I should have given Hannah a warning then that Mommy might cry.
My 3-year-old, Kara, was behind us with her daddy. In the blink of an eye, she'll be in her sister's place.
Hannah was beaming. The first thing that morning, she ran into our bedroom announcing, "Today is my first day of kindergarten!" With the same excitement, she waltzed into the classroom, said hello to her teacher, met some friends and pulled up a chair to start coloring.
I found her name on her cubby and put all her things in it. Then I called her back there to show her where they are. Now it was time. I bent down, put my nose in her berry-smelling hair and gave her a long hug. My voice trembled as I whispered, "Bye, baby."
She looked into my wet eyes, and there was no stopping the tears now. She ran off, back to the coloring table. I walked out into the hallway and pulled out my tissues. I looked back, and saw she was hugging Daddy and crying too, telling him she was going to miss him.
I called her out in the hallway. I explained how sometimes I cry when I'm really happy. I'm not sad. This is a big day, and I'm just so happy for her.
She understood, quickly calmed and ran back in.
What a big girl.
I, on the other hand, was a mess.
I totally relate to this. I felt like a mess the day Hannah started Kindergarten too and now my little Hadley is a big girl. In the blink of an eye it'll be Hope's turn. My baby girls.... how fast they've grown.
