Today is my daughter's first day of first grade. I say today, as it is now well after midnight on August 19, 2013 and I am up with a case of the nerves.
She has been sleeping soundly since 8:30.
I spent the whole day packing her bag, getting her clothes picked, and researching first grade trends on the internet, fearful there is something major I might have missed. I realize I am projecting all my fears onto her. And she is nothing like me. Nothing at all like me in the feeling department. Which is why I am having a glass of beer as I write this at 2 a.m. I will be 10 percent of her chill after 3 of these Belgian longnecks.
Earlier in the day:
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ME: Aren't you nervous it's the first day
HER: Why should I be nervous? It's the first day for all kids.
ME: Are you OK that your Bento box is a different than the lunch boxes other kids might have?
HER: I don't want them to have the same.
ME: Will you be OK that many of your friends are not in the class?
HER: It's OK. I'll make new friends.
I am impressed these words come from a 6 year old. Something I say is seeping in. To the core. She is confident, independent. These are all the things I tell her to think and none of the answers I'd be able to say truthfully.
I must be doing something right.