what to call it

I've had a post kicking around all week about how Julia was starting Kindergarten today. She had her first (and only) day of staggered entry and will start going every morning with a full class on Monday.

Somehow I didn't manage to put into words how I feel about her going. There's a certain amount of "I can't believe my BABY is this big!" to conversations involving whether or not we should try for number 3 because suddenly Julia seems so big. (Conversations is overstated. It's more me saying "Maybe we should have another baby." and Marc looking at me in abject terror before putting his hand to my forehead to see if I am feverish).

All in all it went pretty well. She asked that I drive her rather than going on the bus. She stayed by my side in the playground but seemed to want to play (bad bad mother that I am, I was chatting with the other parents I know, the guilt, I should have been right by her side). She went in quietly and easily, gave me a big kiss. Neither of us cried.

I distracted myself with a call to Stu's godmother who I don't talk to often enough. And my friend (our ex-neighbour) who's daughter will be in the same class (her daughter went yesterday and we had lunch with them afterwards). And then I went to get her (at 10:45 as instructed, only to be told by the Senior Kindergarten mothers that our teachers is out to lunch telling us that the bus comes at 10:45 so we have to be out there waiting at that time instead of at 11:00. 15 minutes in the pouring rain felt long this morning).

We'd done lots of little things this week to get ready for school. Made play dough for the class. Labelled all her things together. Practised putting on her knapsack. Got her snack box ready. On Wednesday we gave her and M (the ex-neighbour daughter) a Hello Kitty necklace that breaks in two and says Best Friends - 1/2 each for them going to kindergarten.

This morning she was up EARLY. And my child who routinely claims she can't get dressed herself managed (without being asked) to get herself dressed and her hair brushed (a small miracle. really). She's been missing nursery school. She was pumped to go.

So when she came out at 11:00 I wasn't quite ready for her little face to pucker, tears barely being held back. Apparently she did really well until about 10 minutes before the end of class, when suddenly she wasn't willing to do high fives and announced "I miss Mama!"

She claims she's not going back. That it was great, that she had a good time, she made a colourful raincloud, they learned French words she already knew (part of the 20 minutes a day of French)... it all comes out in a jumble. That snack was too fast. That she liked it but she misses Mama too much.

I wasn't expecting this from her, my second child, my independent young lady. The one who has so rarely cried when I leave somewhere.

There is no doubt that by Monday she will be raring to go. M will be there on Monday and she's so excited. But for today? It was nice to hear that she missed me.