1st day of 1st grade

She's a pro at this school thing, already.  Compared to last year's heart-wrenching, arm-prying off of my neck incident, this year was a nice, breezy, beautiful 70 degree , flat-surface, comfortable walking shoes and soft stretchy pants walk in the park.

Whew.



Sigh.



Thank you Jesus.



She already knew most of the kids in her class.  She already knew the routine: getting up early, getting dressed and ready, the ride there, car line, walking down the hall, putting her bag in her cubby, and her friends.  There were lots of hugs and excited little greetings when she walked in.  In her normal, reserved demeanor, she'd say hi back and flash her sweet, innocent, precious and beautiful little smile.

Good-bye this time was a lot less painful, for me.  I'm pretty sure I'd be correct to describe her good-bye as painless.  At least, that's what it looked like to me.

We came to pick her up and true to her daddy's genes that she inherited, the day was described as little as possible and just 'okay.'  Nothing more than that.  No long, in-depth descriptions of some part of her day.  Just, 'fine' was what we kept getting.

I'm ok with fine.  That's her style.  No tears and her wanting to go back are positive signs for her.

She did great and she's already asking when Nathan can start school there.

I won't lie, I have grandeur illusions of being a super homeschooling mom, able to keep a house clean, teach all 3 of her children, have a healthy, scrumptious meal on the table each night and miraculously keep up with piles of laundry.  Shoot for the stars, I say.


But really, I still have a tug in my heart to teach her from home.  So if/when the slightest hint of her not wanting to go to school occurs, I have to do my best to not capitalize on her temporary feeling, and do the responsible mom-thing by encouraging her to do her best at her job, which is going to school.