School Days

I have been asked on several occasions how LMC did on her first day of Kindergarten-- but more importantly how I did. 

I was a rockstar. A few days before school started, I asked someone if they thought I was a bad mom for not being upset about her heading off to school? Nah- just excited for the excitement. School is so much fun. It's where you make friends, enemies and learn about life. School is so much more than just books. It is where you learn "playground rules" that you will need throughout life, because those rules don't change. Bitches will always be bitches. Bragging will get you no where. If you're the fastest runner, you won't get caught- but it's hard to play.

Everyone is different and different is good. Identical personalities do not lead to creativity, rather simplicity. 

So, LMC started Kindergarten at the beginning of the week and I had the mindset to revel in her maturity and be excited about her impending adventures. You can't stop time and being sad can't slow it down. Like I said, I was a rockstar. We jumped out of bed when the alarm dinged in the pre-dawn hours... pre-dawn being before 7am. 

Someone was a little slow to find her morning eyeballs...




But, I was ready for it- and had everything already laid out for the first day (and for the week-- four more white shirts under four more jumpers with four more sets of knee socks were already hung in her closet).


Kisses from Prince Charming helped Sleeping Beauty...


We have been trying to establish a routine (all summer) for the mornings- we wake up, go to bathroom, brush our teeth, brush our hair, and then get dressed before heading up front for breakfast. All summer long. Honestly. And you know how we did by the end of the summer?

Let's just leave it at 'not well.'

Dressed and ready to rock, she headed up front for breakfast. You can't see it but we told her she could "sneak a little pink." Her Hide-ees have pink ruffles and she la-la-loves them! Ever the first child- she did not want to get in trouble and made us promise not to tell the teacher about her pink.


Breakfast of champions... an Eggo and OJ before we loaded up ....


and drove the two miles to our parochial school. This was the same school that my brother and I attended when we were kids. Brother told mom before he went into first grade, "Mom- I can't WAIT to be a Blue and White kid! They're the coolest!" The uniform has evolved since then- blue and white are still the dominating colors, but these jumpers are new to me.


Husband is currently in Chicago- but he was able to go with us on her first day. Mama kept Bennie so we could be unencumbered and focus on our first born on her big day. Husband-- ever the rock, ever placid, and ever wonderful was not quite the rock I thought I he would be. No tears were shed, as far as I knew, but I was surprised at his emotion. Even my dad-- of course my dad cries at the Star Spangled Banner-- but even my dad came over in the morning to get a picture of LMC on her way to school.


 We navigated the wide halls full of taller people and her intimidation set in. This was a little different from pre-school.


But, a few turns later- we were in the primary building and she was again an average sized citizen.


She set right to work. Every mom, grandmother, and dad had their phones out snapping a hundred pictures and videos of their own cherub.


You can't see it, but on her name card- I drew the smallest heart and told LMC that if she ever missed me or felt sad- to look at the heart and she would know...

"THAT YOU LOVE ME!" she said with a smile on her face.


At a parochial school, there are prayers. No moments of silence-- straight up-- prayers. They pray a lot here. Hail Marys, Our Fathers, something about vocations, Glory Be-s, all kinds of Catholic prayers for these little Catholic children.

Husband and I were in a debate about where our children will go to school. He- a product of Public education and I- a product of Private education. Public schools have character classes while private school have religion classes. We attend church (almost) every weekend, but that is only one day a week. As Catholics, we have this wonderful opportunity to give our children an education that has a foundation in our faith. Something I was fortunate to have in my childhood- it put a foundation in me that I did not even realize was there until I was an adult.


I'll get off my soapbox before I get too pious....


There were some familiar faces in her class--


And some new ones, too-- like this kid who did not look too impressed that he did not get to hold the class flag...


But, for the moment, they were terribly innocent on the first day having spent a quick five years on this earth. They know nothing of those playground rules.


And are still learning what to do with their hands as they pray... or as they sing the National Anthem.


Even the adults are not really sure which way to stand...


It was a good day. I picked her up from school on Tuesday- her first full day- and she said, "MOM! Parochial is THE BEST!"

Comments

Anonymous said…
Oh.My.Gosh!!!! You had me at the uniform. We have a now (21yr old) and she is a product of catholic school. She's an only, and the light of our life. I have never regretted for a day sending her to Catholic school. She has told me that its the ONLY way to go!
In fact her best friends today are the ones from her all girls high school! SM (gotta love those double names) said it was the best years ever! You have done good sweet one!