Emory’s First Day of School

We headed into our first day of school with a little excitement and a LOT of anxiety.After months of talking about a new school, uniforms, new friends, etc {and being excited about most of the changes}, Emory begged to not go to ‘bible school’ this morning.

I had to wake her up an hour earlier than normal to make it to school by 7:30 {which is WAY early for us!} and she kept asking to wear ‘her’ clothes.

We made it to school after a few tears, and while she had stopped crying, she seemed to be in complete shock when we arrived.

We’re used to walking into the preschool and dropping her off at her classroom, getting her settled and talking to the teacher.

Now, after being dropped off in the carpool line, the kids {all students, 4K through sixth grade} go to the playground until the bell rings, then walk in lines to their classrooms. Surely she’ll get used to it as it becomes routine, but walking up to almost 400 kids running around on the playground was a little daunting for her.

That’s when parents were supposed to leave {on the first day}, but the sweet assistant in her class could tell that Emory being overwhelmed was making me upset and she told me I could tag along as they walked to their room. She was most definitely my saving grace, because I was already starting to lose it and I’m sure I would have made a fool of myself had I left Emory when we were told to.

We made it to the classroom, found her cubby and found her seat. I hugged and kissed {about a thousand times} Emory as the other kids got settled and then I slowly started inching towards the door. She looked up a handful of times and whispered, ‘can you stay wif me for just anofer second, mama?’

And of course I did, until finally her teacher had their attention enough to get her mind off of me leaving.

I gave another quick hug and kiss, snapped a few more pictures and headed out. She was not doubt unsure of what exactly was going on, but she seemed a little more comfortable as the class began. And the little boy beside her seemed to keep checking on her, then smiling back at me as if to say, ‘Go on! I’ll take care of her!’. I’m sure that wasn’t the case, but that’s what I told myself as I forced myself to exit.

I gave myself the short walk to the car to cry, but pulled myself together and was happy to be heading into work for a few hours to keep distracted.

I picked her up {in the carpool line} at noon and she seemed tired and still confused. It’s hard to have left the safety of her little preschool that she’s known since she was six months old, but I know in a short time she’ll feel just as comfortable here.

Happy first day of school sweet girl! I’m so proud of you!

{And thank goodness we have another eight years before we have to change schools again!}