The Bean was SO excited for her first day back to daycare. She wanted to wear a fancy dress. Why? "Because I'm going to PRESCHOOL!" She wanted to wear her sweater buttoned all the way to the top but with the bottom still showing her fancy dress. Tights with no holes in the 'gina. Her purple shoes. Two ponies. And one of mamas necklaces.
Francine had painted two pictures to give her new teacher, and I wrote the teacher a card "from" Francie, describing things she likes (playing outside) and does well (sharing) and is learning (to tell jokes) and needs (diapers at nap) and what she hopes to learn in preschool (about owls and foxes, to write more letters than "F" and "A").
I was hoping to meet her new teacher, Ms. Liz, at drop-off yesterday, but she was taking her own kid to his first day of high school. I felt for her. High school? I think if I blink the Bean will be in high school. Neighbor Rick is sending his daughter Annie off to Brown next week. I told F she's not allowed to go away to college, and especially no further than 100 miles. Seriously though, my heart bursts at her cuteness, her silliness, her bravery to learn new things, her budding sense of style, and her loviness. And my heart kinda breaks, too, as she gains more and more independence, and knowing the impermanence of this perfect moment with my 3.5 year old preschooler.
One of the ironic truths of my experience thus far with motherhood is that I'm never as obsessed with my daughter as I am when she's walking away from me (or toward me, or sleeping). It's like as soon as that distance is created, I want to close it. And because I can't, I just gush loving things and look at photos or videos of her.
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