First Day of Preschool

Kiki’s last day of preschool was on Tuesday and it had me thinking back to her first day of preschool…..

It was finally here – the day I had been waiting for for what seemed like forever.  Kiki’s first day of preschool.  I had made it.  I was going to have a regular break from childcare duties two whole days a week.  Not exactly two whole days – preschool is only 9 to 12, but it sounded more exciting to me when I said two whole days.   I deserved this.  I worked hard for this.  I put in lots of long days and even longer nights to get us all to this point.  I was so proud of myself.  Oh, and I guess it was a milestone for Kiki too.

I bought her first-day-of-school outfit weeks ahead of time.  I ordered her the uber-popular and ridiculously adorable little bookbag that looks like an animal.  The night before her first day I fixed her a wonderfully filling dinner and got her to bed early.  I went to bed with butterflies in my stomach.

And then it all went to hell.  Kiki woke up twice that night.  Ugh.  And when she woke up at 6 am, I knew she hadn’t had enough sleep.  So I made sure the alarm on my phone was set and I walked my little girl back to her room and climbed into bed with her.  I put my phone under the pillow and tried to get comfy so we could both get a little more sleep.

I woke up a little later surprised that my alarm hadn’t gone off yet.  I reach for my phone to see the time.  8:40. What?!?!  8:40!!!  School starts in 20 minutes.  My alarm didn’t go off.  Crap.  Crap. Crap.

My mind starts racing.  We gotta go.  I have to wake Kiki up.  I have to get dressed.  I have to feed her breakfast.  Crap. Crap. Crap.

I don’t want Kiki to get stressed out on her first day of school so I’m somehow able to put up a calm and excited front for her all the while completely freaking out in my head.

To Kiki: “Hey baby it’s your first day of school!  Let’s get dressed!”

To myself: Motherhood fail.

To Kiki:  “I have a fun idea!  Let’s eat your waffles in the car!”

To myself:  Motherhood fail.

To Kiki:  “Who can put our shoes on faster?  Me or you? “

To myself:  Motherhood fail.

I manage to get our butts out of the house at 8:59 – some kind of record for sure.  I snap a few pics of Kiki – I don’t care how late we are, I am not missing out of chronicling this day – and get in the car.  I try to avoid looking at myself in the rearview mirror because greasy ponytail and morning breath were not exactly how I planned on presenting myself to my daughter’s teachers, but let’s not dwell.

We skip up the stairs (because skipping is speedy but I can pass it off as fun) and I peek in the door and see that her class hasn’t even started circle time.  I breathe a huge sigh of relief.  I did it.  I recovered from a huge motherhood blunder.  I put a smile on my face and I walk Kiki into class.

I look around the room and am filled with excitement for all the new experiences that my daughter is going to have and all the new friends she is going to make.  Then I smile as my fiercely independent little girl waves to me and walks over to play with the dollhouse.  No tears, no fear.  I am so proud.

Then the little girl already at the dollhouse stiff arms Kiki and says, “No.  You can’t play with me.”

Crap. Crap. Crap.  I hold my breath while I wait to see how she reacts.  Kiki looks unphased and the two teachers immediately come over to sort it out.

I slowly back out the classroom.  It’s out of my hands.  She is their responsibility now.  I am officially off the clock.

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