We have been prepping Peanut for a week now for her transition to preschool. I fretted that she wouldn't handle it well. It would be the first time that she would spend hours away from anyone but family and the babysitter. She didn't know anyone. What if she got bashful and had a potty accident? What if she forgot her manners? What if she cried the whole time because she was afraid?
We told her she would have so much FUN. Meet new friends. Learn cool things. Dance. Sing. Play. I told I would drop her off and leave but that we would always come back for her. I told her she didn't need to get upset.
I should have worried more about how I would handle it. There was a 24-hour period where I couldn't even think about her going to preschool without crying.
Tuesday morning dawned with Peanut crawling into our bed. I started singing a made-up song about school and she giggled. She was excited. Then the reality of what was about to take place occurred to her and she got her game face on. She was serious. More serious than I have ever seen my little bundle of giggles and smiles.
She didn't want to eat much breakfast. I tried to coax her, explaining that she had to have a full belly to go to school. Then she didn't like the outfit I picked out. Then she had to try on three different pairs of shoes before she was OK. I tried to be understanding while also scooting her along so we wouldn't be late for her first day.
I took pictures. She insisted that her sister be in them. (She is.) At least Peanut smiled long enough for a cute picture.
And then we were off. Her school has an optional tumbling class one day a week and a dance class the other day before school. There were fewer kids there than when we visited and Peanut very seriously looked at me and asked, "Where are all the kids, momma?" I explained that more would be coming later. Thankfully three little girls walked in about that time.
While I was writing a check, Peanut launched herself at me.
She hugged me.
She kissed me.
She looked me in the eye and quietly said, "Momma, you need to get Maddie and leave."
And with that, she turned around and left, never looking back. She didn't even notice when I walked out.
I left and cried all the way home.
When I picked her up, her teachers said she did great. She said she had fun and wanted to go back. I got a picture with an outline of her tiny little hand decorated like a turkey. She also put together a construction paper ice cream cone. She told me they learned the ABCs but did not talk about the numbers. She was rubbing her little eyes by the time we got the babysitter's house. She was exhausted.
She said she met K with red shirt and a girl with a Dora shirt but that she couldn't remember her name. She also met a boy with orange hair who she hasn't stopped talking about (which is annoying the husband beyond belief).
It will be four years tomorrow that I found out I was pregnant with this amazing being. She has gone from a squishy being who kept us up at tonight to an amazing person. She loves her little sister more than anything in the world. She is daddy's girl. She gets frustrated just like me when she can't do something. She reminds us that we can't leave her alone at home. She sings in the car and loves to have dance parties, yelling, "Get up and dance with me, momma!"
She's going to school.