The Clark Bark: First Day of Preschool

Thursday, August 23, 2012

First Day of Preschool

Today was a BIG day. And it seems like the BIG days are always the hard days. Today was Topher's first day of preschool. He was so excited/nervous/anxious this morning that he woke up at 6am sharp and then couldn't even eat any breakfast.

Before daddy left for work we had a photo shoot on the front porch.

I was babysitting Emma today, so I strapped both kids into the car and we drove to East Elementary

(which sounds like it might be on the wrong side of the tracks but it's not. This is, after all, Ankeny and not St. Louis.)

It's a secure entrance building so we had to wait for Ms. Megan (mee-gan) to come collect our children. Normally we'd say goodbye here but on this first day we were allowed to walk our kids to their classroom.

And then, against every instinct known to mommies, I had to leave him at the puzzle table and walk out of the room. He seemed fine. I consoled myself with how well-adjusted he must be as I tried to hold myself together for the next 2.5 hours. Then I hurried back to collect my baby.

He walked out of school with his lower lip shoved out, sniffling dramatically. One of the teachers said not to let him fool me, he actually had fun today. But he did get sad a few times. They thought he was tired and just missing his mommy.

So I scooped him up and kissed his pouty little lip and took him home. After his cocoa (chocolate milk), he started to feel better and told me he did have fun. He just wanted mommy to stay with him in preschool. And oh, Topher, if I never had to let you go I never would.

Soon he was back to his silly self.

Then, even though he gave up naps quite awhile ago, I thought today was probably a big enough day to warrant one. And Topher used it as a chance to add one more first to this BIG day:

Sleeping in the top bunk.

It was hard leaving my baby with relative strangers today. It was hard seeing him come out of the building so sad. It was hard getting him to talk about it. It's hard knowing that he's growing up and that his life is branching subtly away from mine.