Today was the first day of school for our county. All over town, small people at various stages of munchkinhood sat at their breakfast tables, an hour before time to leave, already wearing their backpacks and new sneakers. I assume this, because it was true at my house. Getting my daughter out of bed in the morning is usually like a scene from an old Frankenstein movie: I stand plaintively at the side of the bed willing my child to "Rise, rise!" while she groans and rolls over, sometimes taking a swipe at someone on the way. I only wish that was an exaggeration.
This morning, however, she was dressed and ready to go before I even knew what was happening.
We walked to school and she marched into her classroom, where she settled in like she's been doing this for years. She's in the first grade. She handed over her classroom supplies, asked her teacher where to put her lunchbox, and sat down at her assigned desk to start work on the coloring project that was waiting there for her. Complete with a BRAND NEW box of crayons. What a treat. But why, then, did I have to buy a box? Just asking.
I stood outside her classroom and watched her for a few minutes, but she was clearly absorbed in the task, and didn't require any additional reassurance from me, so I headed home. Just last year she wanted a series of 14 "one more kiss"es, which I usually love, but got a little worried about it after the first 6. So I was a little disappointed for myself, but so pleased that she settled right in.
Hannah's teacher reminds me of my own first grade teacher, Mrs. Hess, who was, I'm pretty sure, an angel. I have no recollection whatsoever of my kindergarten teacher, but Mrs. Hess lives in my memory as a shining example of how to not be a scary human being, but still command respect and obedience. Plus, we could earn real peacock feathers for completing reading assignments. Those were way cool.
I hope there are feathers in Hannah's future.
She makes this face a lot.