Only first-day tears are mom's
She bounced out of bed and zoomed through breakfast. Proudly and excitedly, she marched off to her first day of school. Worst part was watching her sister get dropped off first because elementary school starts an hour earlier than preK-3. On the drive over, she sang: "I'm going to Palma Ceia, with my own lunchbox! I'm going to Palma Ceia, with my own lunchbox!"
It's just like some of my friends said: she'll be so excited you'll skate through! Well, she did, but I didn't. I cried first when her sister left for 3rd grade and then again when my baby confidently joined her new classmates. She appeared completely comfortable and full of joy. So why was I sick to my stomach?
She wore the same dress her sister wore on her first day of school 5 years ago (see inset picture). And by all accounts, she took the leap with great ease. We walked into a friend on the way out who, seeing us alone, said: "No wonder you're both smiling."
But I wasn't then and I'm not now. I'm consumed with worry and angst. Her teachers are nice and the other kids look kind. But she's never been in this environment. Who will comfort her? Who will make her feel safe? My mind raced as I suffered through my boo-hoo breakfast.
Returning home, I saw her blanket and baby doll on the sofa. I curled up next to them and tuned in the Olympics. A friend's gift of chocolate hit the spot.
-- Amy Hollyfield