preschool, a month in.

One month in, and I have survived to tell the tale. Not at all dramatic, eh? Fourteen days of school in all, one sick day only. We are still early to leave for school and early to arrive to pick her up each day. Matt comes along as often as he can. She gives us each a kiss firmly on the cheek and tells us she loves us before she bounds out of the door with zero greeting for the waiting aide. Her legs walk confidently up the path towards the school but every few steps she turns her head around tentatively and checks from whence she came. I nudge forward in the van but I won't pull away until I see her safely within the confines of the building... where she turns right and I see her no more. And while this drop off has gotten easier every day, meaning it no longer brings tears to my eyes, it still brings a bit of a sting watching her walk away. It's the large backpack on a small little back. It's that glance over her shoulder at me....

While she is busy learning things like the "It's Time to Go Home" song and how to effectively cover one's mouth when one sneezes, I'm at home. It's quiet and sort of boring. David and I clean the bathrooms or do yet another load of laundry. He seems to enjoy his quiet time. Playing with his diggers or watching his letter videos on YouTube. Sometimes we take a walk around the development or meet up with my sister. I'm always checking the time, for fear of missing the 11:15 departure time to go get her. 

She skips down the path and hops right into the van where her teacher gives me a brief overview of the morning. Today we read a book about a round house with no doors or windows with a star on the inside. The house was..... an apple! That sort of thing. On the way home I plague Letty with questions and she gives me the regular response: I don't know. 

I have noticed small changes. She generally is more naughty on afternoons after school. She immediately walks in the door and pesters David. Tackling and wrestling and hugs. She is more prone to offering up the prayer before a meal, "God is great, God is great (should be good), thank you thank you for our food." She will explain to me randomly about the boy's bathroom line and the girl's bathroom line. She pretends to be a teacher and reads a story to an invisible classroom, rotating the book so each fake child can see the illustrations. Mrs. Shearn is mentioned throughout the day in general conversation, Lena looks like Mrs. Shearn. The Minnie Mouse pillow on her bed is Mrs. Shearn.  She can color within the lines of a coloring sheet and requests it to be hung on her bulletin board. She recites her "Give Me Five" rules (eyes are watching, ears are listening, mouth is closed, hands are still, feet are very quiet, all sung to the tune of Ferere Jacques.). She generally recgonizes the letters A and B, and has mastered the art of the letter L. These are important times. Important times. 

But she likes it. She looks forward to it. And here I am functioning.

Letty's first day of school here.