I had a dream about how my daughter's first day of kindergarten would go. The bus driver would have to pry her off my leg and drag her onto the vehicle kicking and screaming because she didn't want to leave me. She would be crying hysterically as the bus pulled away, her face plastered against the bus window. I would be so emotionally spent from the experience that I would go home and eat an entire package of slightly stale store-bought cinnamon rolls. As my daughter returned home after a whole 2 1/2 hours at school, she would step off the bus and come running into my arms.My dream came true, with a few minor exceptions. Camber woke up at the crack of dawn and immediately put on one of her adorable muumuus. To make her outfit extra attractive, she hiked her socks up to mid-calf and applied a temporary tattoo to her left bicep. At 6:30am, she asked "How much longer?" for the first time. By 6:40am, she had asked that question 10 more times. At 8 a.m., I opened the garage door and announced that it was time to walk to the bus stop. Before I could put my shoes on, Camber was half way down the street.
"Wait for me!" I shouted. No response.
At the bus stop, we were joined by three other kindergartners and their families. Everyone was taking pictures. Camber told me to put my camera away. When I refused, she turned her back every time I tried to take a picture.
When the bus pulled up, all of the other moms hugged their kindergartners and began to cry.
"I'm going to miss you Mommy!" wailed the children.
I reached for my kindergartner, but she was running full speed...away from me.
"I want a hug!" I wailed. "Please!"
"I've got stuff to do," said the kindergartner, as she climbed into the bus.
"Good-bye! Good-bye!" I waved as the bus pulled away. The kindergartner jammed her Princess backpack up against the bus window, blocking my view of her tears.
I was waiting, arms outstretched, when the bus returned with my loving child a few hours later.
"What are you doing here?" asked the kindergartner as she stepped off the bus.
"I'm here to meet you!" I responded, ignoring the rudeness.
"Don't come tomorrow," was the reply. "I want to walk home all by myself."
The five going on fifteen year-old then proceeded to march down the street. The trees hurried to move out of her way.
"How did it go?" asked my husband when he came home from work.
"She was pretty much devastated to leave me," I replied. "But with time, I think she'll be okay."
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I'm sure my mother would identify. When I went to kindergarten (being the first to do so) she followed my bus to school. When I stepped off the bus and saw her, I gave her my most serious glare and said, "What are YOU doing here?" She told me she'd like to walk me to class and I pointed at the car and said, "Go home." Bet she wished for that experience the next year, when my brother hated kindergarten so much he used to sneak home every day until she finally put him back in preschool for one more year...
LOL, I am sure that is how it will be for me next year.
I love that "The trees hurried to move out of her way." Perfect! :)
What an independent little lady!
I love "the trees moved out of her way", too! I am going to use that to describe a certain hormonal prepubescent daughter.
Are the boys in kindergarten too?
That was so my little kindergartener too. He is my middle child, but wanted nothing to do with me taking a picture or walking him to class.
You are hysterical! I'm dying to know what shoes she wore...
Heck, I still remember my first day of kindergarten back in 1965. My mom drove me to school on the back of her motorcyle. After we dismounted the cycle she told me that she hoped that I had paid attention to how we got there because I needed walk myself home afterward. Yeah, I became independent rather early in life.
Good for you, raising an independent little spitfire!
I relate. I cried, big, wet tears when I dropped Girl Terror at kindergarten last year. She didn't know about my sadness, though. She didn't ever turn around and look back at me!!!
She still hates weekends.
LOL...I think your daughter and my daughter might get along JUST FINE!
My daughter's preschool picture is the back of her at 50 ft & then 100 ft. She was a little excited too.
Independence is good.
classic!
The boys could have gone to kindergarten too, but I'm holding them back to put some distance between kids who are already too close in age for their own good. They are repeating Pre-K and start next week (she says without a twinge of sadness).
That sounds just like my preschooler :).
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