The first day of “real” school can make any kid feel intimidated, anxious, nervous or even scared. You felt nothing but excitement and eagerness to get in the classroom for kindergarten at Artondale Elementary.
You acted like the night before school was Christmas Eve. You stayed up late with bottled-up energy that leaked out through your markers as you drew your school with a road back to our house and a series of outfits that you’d wear to school, like a fashion designer’s sketchbook.
Most mornings you drag out of bed in your nightgown, hair half glued to your face and moping toward the kitchen or couch to plop your head down again and wait for Cheerios or pancakes with Nutella (a new favorite) to appear in front of you. On that first morning of school, you came downstairs fully dressed with shoes on. You were giddy and giggly and couldn’t seem to wait to run out the door. But not before plenty of pictures to celebrate your first day of school.
Your Mom thought we’d drive you to school the first day to keep it simple for you, but you were interested in the full experience, so we went for the bus. We all walked you to the bus stop, joining the stampede of families funneling toward the front of the neighborhood. You and Matteo scootered most of the way. I thought I’d be an emotional wreck, only appropriate for a funeral, sending you off on the bus but the speed of it all happening beat my ability to process and emote. Just as soon as we got to the stop and met some neighbors, you were walking up the bus steps, out of sights, and into the rows of students. Into the big world of an elementary school.
We didn’t entirely nail the bus logistics that first day. In the afternoon we returned to the bus stop to pick you up. While hanging around with other impatient parents, your Mom got a phone call from your teacher, Mrs. Brandt, to let us know that you didn’t make the bus home. That was our fault. We didn’t successfully get through the school administration grapevine that you were taking the bus home because, as mentioned, we didn’t think you were taking the bus that first day at all, so someone held you back for pick-up. I jogged home, got the car, picked up your Mom and Matteo and we drove to get you, hoping the error in logistics didn’t add stress to your big first day.
It didn’t. We saw you standing with Mrs. Brandt, somewhat careless about the bus mishap and instead glad to spend a little more time with teacher. Did I ever tell you about that time when I was at Disneyland and failed to get off the ride with everyone else, causing me to take the ride again solo? I’m sure my parents were freaking out, concerned that I felt, scared, alone and unsure what to do next. I actually felt happy to take the ride again with a taste of independence. That might be similar to your feelings on that first day.
I am so proud of how you appraochaed and handled yourself. Good job, kiddo. You are definitely ready for all of this.
Elementary school is no Disneyland, but with constant directions to stand in line, acceptably prepared food, adults sheparding you to the next thing, and Uncle Scott dressed as the otter mascot for big events, it’s pretty darn close.
Love, Dad