My daughter Hannah is 5 1/2 years old. She loves colouring and princesses and a good poop joke. She says she wants to live with me forever, because we would miss each other if she left. She is my firstborn, and she taught me to be a mother.
We were alternately partners and combatants in the rough-and-tumble days of early infancy. She was so loud and so small. When I looked at her I felt afraid. Who the hell left me in charge of another person, and what were they drinking? Over time, through a lot of trial and error, Hannah and I figured this thing out together.
We've read all the best bedtime stories and learned which grocery stores give out the tastiest cookies. While there have been days at daycare and nights away, I've remained at the centre of my daughter's world. I have been the one who decided what to do and when to do it.
In a few weeks Hannah starts kindergarten. I'm looking forward to the things she'll learn and the friends she'll make. I'm really looking forward to having some more time to myself. And I can't wait for holiday concerts and sports days and school supply shopping. I do love school supplies.
But starting kindergarten is a little sad, too. We are losing a lot of our freedom. Vacations and playdates and field trips will be scheduled around school. No more following our whims or sleeping in on Tuesdays. The local school district will set our daily schedule.
At kindergarten other adults will be responsible for Hannah. Of course, my husband and I will still be her parents. But her teachers will play a big part in her life from here on out. I still remember all of my own teachers - they played a big role in my childhood. I know that it will be the same for Hannah, and I feel a bit jealous.
Mostly, though, I feel nostalgic. It's cliche (but true) that children grow up way too fast. Kindergarten is just another milestone that arrived far too soon for me. My wee little bundle who taught me so much is not so wee anymore. She is heading off into the world, and away from me.
On the first day of kindergarten I will be excited for Hannah's new adventure. I will pack her bag with freshly-sharpened pencils and wax crayons still pristine in their box. I will try to make friends with her teacher. And I will wonder how on earth this happened. How did the sleepless nights and tears end up here, at the public school, waving to my daughter's back as she skips away?
I'm crying already. Can you tell me how you made it through the start of kindergarten? I could really use some tips. Help a mummy out!
 
Printer-friendly version