You’ve started full-day kindergarten, and now Mom and I are midday empty nesters. Whoa!
This has been a long-time coming as you had to sit on the sideline all of last year to watch Eliza catch the bus each day and disappear into the mysterious world of elementary school. Now you get to enter that world.
You couldn’t have been more ready. We counted down the days starting mid-summer. We learned about your kindergarten teacher, the same as Eliza had. We tested the sizes of your jackets to make sure you didn’t grow another arm’s length over the summer. We got you to the barber to make sure your haircut was fresh — incredibly important.
The main event, at least for us parents, was the first morning bus pick-up. Our bus stop was packed with excited students and eager parents. You weren’t nervous at all, being so familiar with the bus routine for Eliza and probably knowing that she and a few neighborhood friends would get you to where you needed to be. You couldn’t fail. We caught up with neighbor parents. You found and started playing with friends. All was right.
Unlike Eliza’s first bus day last year, yours went in an emotionless blur. The bus arrived much earlier than we expected (like 10 minutes!) and you had just started playing before the bus pulled up and you dashed to be amongst the first in line. We gave you a quick wave and you got to your front seat (all kinders sit at the front), peering back at us through the half-mirrored window with smiling eyes.
That’s your magic: you don’t take on the weight of the world at once, you go with the flow and help everyone enjoy the fun of the moment.
Your Mom and I walked the three short blocks home, a little surprised to have reached this parenting stage already. It’s familiar but a little strange not to have a child pulling on a shirt or patience or heartstring at all times. We were ready for the break but also immediately missed the labor.
Of course, our “break” just makes for more distraction-less working hours for me, and time for Mom to get some life and order back. We barely recharge before you and Eliza come off the bus hours later bringing back all of the chaos that we missed. And so the virtuous cycle goes from here.
Love, Dad