My daughter had her last day of pre-school yesterday. It’s a bittersweet day really. It will be nice for her to be home with my wife full time for a few months, and it will be nice for my wife to not have to rush lunch time every day to take her to school, but my daughter is also sad that she won’t see her teacher and friends every day.
Looking back, it’s hard to believe that it was less than a year ago that she started preschool. I remember feeling very nervous the night before her first day, my little girl in someone else’s care for the first time since that month when she was only one month old. Your rational brain tells you that she will be safe, but the emotional side has doubts. She was three at the time.
My how things have changed. She really has grown and benefited from school. She has made friends. She has regaled us at dinner with songs and stories from school. She has even abandoned stories of her imaginary friend (this makes me a little sad) for real tales of real friends. Oh, and she has also learned to read. At 4 years old she is reading books meant for 2nd graders. I’m just a little bit proud.
So our lives will shift again these next few months while she is at home, as life often does with kids. I’m sure there will be challenges, especially for my wife who is home with both kids all day. But I’m guessing things will be great at home too.
Next year she’ll go to preschool again (as long as Pennsylvania doesn’t cut finding for it). And then we’ll be getting nervous all over again for her first days of kindergarten. In fact, I can feel it in my stomach right now, just thinking about it.
The Struggling Writer 