Down the Rabbit Hole

Knee Socks and Smiles

My daughter informed me yesterday that she has been in school for twelve days now. She said this with a smile and no small measure of pride as we climbed the hill to her school. On the sidewalk, I stopped her for a minute. We had agonized so much with our decision on schools, I really wanted a sign to know we had chosen right for her. We leaned against the railing, watching the buses roll up.

"12 days already? Wow!, You like your school then still? I asked

She nodded vigorously, still smiling. Then she caught sight of a friend and started to pull me along toward the doors. In a few moments we were swallowed by the chaos of a 600 plus capacity elementary school in full morning mode. We walked to her class where a few more of her friends waved and smiled at us from their spot in line outside the classroom. I left her there after a few hugs and kisses and tried not to look back as I walked away back down the hall.

Twelve days in and she's still smiling, still circling a five star day in her agenda. Twelve days in and she has twice as many friends. Twelve days in and she's proudly coming home with fistfuls of the blue tickets the school uses to reward good behavior and academic achievements. These all have to be a good signs. Getting dressed that morning, she capped her uniform off with brand new knee socks. She seemed delighted, pulling the bright white socks up to her knees then rushing over to show me. A big girl's uniform. She even let me take a few pictures of her standing proudly in her pigtails and matching blue cardigan. It tugs at my heart, bittersweet and beautiful, how quickly she is growing up.

The routines are setting in now. Our morning commute has developed into an ongoing conversation on animal adaptations or review of magic words she's learning that week. We have just enough time at drop off to snag an extra hug or two and I know some of the teachers well enough to have brief conversations on my way out. Pickup isn't as frightening as it was in the beginning. I find her easily, sitting crissed-crossed and apple-sauced among her classmates. She takes my hand and once we are outside, she usually is eager to answer my questions about her day. I may never know 100% if we made the right choice for her but all signs so far seem to indicate that she's happy there and that's as good as we can hope for.

Looking back on all my angst, I can see clearly now that this transition was something I had dreaded far more than she had. My adaptation to the new routines and new environment has been much slower than hers. She had been ready, I, simply, had not.

Twelve days in now and I think I might finally be getting there.