1 Mother 2 Another

We’ve completed our first week of
school – Maddie only goes Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday
– and I can say it’s been successful beyond my wildest
dreams. Cora and I are finding our new rhythms, our new grooves,
and are beginning to enjoy our time together a little better
without feeling as if we’re an amputee missing our phantom
limb. But it’s Maddie who gets the gold star for this week.


That kid is now absolutely addicted to school. I’d suspected
that once she got past her fear of the unknown she’d quickly
grow to love it: Maddie absolutely adores routine and rules and
structure and knowing what comes next, and school plays right into
that. She sees order created out of chaos, and watches a mess turn
into a thing of structure and beauty with only squares of
construction paper and a glue stick. My girl is hooked.

Thursday morning Maddie woke up early
(which is getting really annoying – Mommy likes her sleep)
and came running into my room, as she has all week. “Mommy, I
couldn’t sleep all night because today’s my day to show
my ‘All About Me’ bag, and I can’t wait to tell
my new friends all about me. PLUS it’s my day to have a
classroom job, and I don’t know if I’m going to be the
Door Holder or the Flag Holder or the Line Leader or the Snack
Helper or the Lunch Helper or the Calendar Helper!” Maddie
went on to debate the merits of each job and speculate as to which
one she’d enjoy best, shivering in anticipation.


We’ve developed a routine on these early-rising mornings: we
lie in my bed and snuggle for a while, then Maddie drags in her big
storybook Bible and we read a couple chapters together. When she
can’t stand it any longer Maddie will hop up and get dressed
– something I used to have to drag her through – and
then run downstairs for breakfast, trying (mostly) successfully to
control her impatience. As the morning moves forward, she’s
looking at the family less and less, already mentally checking out
and looking forward to school, so that by the time we finally get
to school and check her into her room she barely casts us a
backwards glance as she runs to her seat.


Maddie’s made a couple of friends, though in true preschooler
fashion she doesn’t quite remember their names. She’s
also formed definite opinions about what she does – and does
NOT – enjoy bringing for lunch, and about her favorite times
of day (recess and art and reading time). She’s experienced
chapel and come home singing the songs she learned there. Her
teachers have emailed me that she’s adjusting wonderfully and
is a joy to teach. (Well, I could’ve told them that in
advance. Completely unbiased, of course.)


In short, Maddie’s having a great time in school.


As I put her to bed last night, Madeleine cried over the fact that
she didn’t get to go to school today, and in fact because of
the holiday on Monday won’t get to go to school until next
Wednesday. And I understand that, and am sorry she feels like
she’ll be missing out on so much.


But I have to say that, selfishly, I’m looking forward to
having her back to myself for the next few days. Plenty of time for
school – later. For now, my prayers of Thanksgiving for a
successful transition continue to waft their way upward.