Monday was her first day of Pre-K. Leading up to it I was a mess. I cried just about every day for two weeks. I shocked myself with how well I handled the morning. We got up, brushed our teeth (something she is doing on her own now) had breakfast, got dressed, and then my child took the biggest step that she has ever taken.
I can vividly remember that tiny face looking up at me in the hospital that morning. I remember how her eyes were almost black, and how I used eye-liner to draw a little scar on her head.
I held myself together pretty well Monday. I only really started to lose it when she moved her name tag from “Home” to “School” when she entered the class.
Academically, she is right where she should be. Starting to recognize letters, starting to write her name, she loves books and learning. She is excited about school. She has attacked this challenge like she has done every other hurdle she has faced. She masters the skill, be it walking, talking, or riding her bike, then she takes off running.
Parents are supposed to think their kids are the greatest in the world, the smartest, the best looking. I truly just hope that Avi continues to grow and learn.
I have done better with this transition than I orginally thought I would. Because I am a teacher, and I work with kids, I understand the profound effect that adults can have on children. To this point I have been one of the very few with the power to influence her. I have had a major hand in deciding what she learns, when and from who. Now, someone else has that power. And it scares the hell out of me.