Zoe has started a one hour a week pre-pre school program. We prepped and prepped Zoe as much as we could prior to the first class. She was excited. So excited.
Then the day came. The first day. I woke her up and the first words out of her mouth were, “I don’t want to go to school.” Doh.
I reassured her it would be fun. She got all dolled up and I took upteen thousand pictures.
I could sense the nervousness from the back seat as we drove the three blocks to the school building.
She clutched onto my hand as we entered the building. We made the way to the classroom. We looked at the fun new toys, met the energenic teachers, hugged and kissed, and Ellie and I left the room.
And Zoe screamed. And sobbed. And howled. Yes, howled.
And I freaked. I know from the old teaching days, it’s best just to leave. But my kiddo was crying. So I went back in one time, hugged her again and whispered some last minute advice into her ear.
Ellie and I heard her wails as we left the building. We made our way home and then the tears welled up in my eyes. This was the first time Zoe was gone in a setting like this and it was just plain sad. I nervously fussed around the house until it was time to get her.
As we walked into the room, Zoe rushed over and said, “I did not do the art project. Maybe next time.” The teacher reported that Zoe cried for about half an hour.
Well, we talked about it and Zoe decided that she is not going to cry anymore, she’ll do the art projects, and she’ll talk to her new friends.
And lo and behold, she hasn’t cried since, has done every art project, and, well, is still working on talking to the other kids. Maybe next time.