So, I didn’t sleep very well last night. I kept waking up and rolling over to look at the clock, kind of like you do when you know you have an early flight in the morning and you’re terrified that you’ll wake up too late to get to the airport. Except, you know, I’m not taking a flight today but instead facing filial abandonment.
Case in point:
Yes, sirree. She up and left me for kindergarten, she did. Just like that. One day she’s born and the next it’s all BYE MOM and I KNOW YOU HATE CATS BUT I REALLY NEED TO HAVE THIS VERY SPECIFIC BACKPACK.
In the interest of fairness, which we all know typically doesn’t interest me all that much, Aura didn’t have to go to kindergarten this year. With her dratted October birthday, she misses the September 1 deadline for public kindergarten. We thought about sending her to yet another year of preschool, but two years seems like enough and plus we prefer being those pushy, MY KID CAN READ WHERE’S THE TOLSTOY AND THE CALCULUS parents. So we opted for a private half-day kindergarten in the next town over.
Today was the first day. I’ve been dreading it in my own way, of course, but golly GEE have I talked it up to Aura, trying to tread the line between Not Too Animated As to Make You Nervous and Enthusiastically Optimistic But Dying Inside About Your First Step Into Leaving Me Forever. This morning, as we walked into the new school, she gripped my hand extra tightly and asked, “Are you proud of me?” A few minutes later, as we hung her new backpack with its new pencil box on her new hook, she gripped my fingers even more tightly and whispered, “I’m afraid.”