First day of kindergarten
It's over. I didn't take a photo this morning, because Skipper spent so much time crying about how she didn't want to go to kindergarten, and all her underpants squeeze her buttocks to death and all her socks are too tight* that by the time I got her out the door wearing enough clothes that I could take her to school without worrying about getting reported for neglect, there was no time for photos.
When I left her in her classroom, she was crying, which was of course extra-terrible for Skipper because when you're the only kid in the class crying, all the other kids stare at you, which is a thing she spends most of her energy trying to avoid. Other parents** said to me as I was leaving "Don't worry, she'll be fine!" which was of course true in the sense that she would stop crying, and get through her day. I was actually not distressed by the acute situation, as I know that Skipper is in some ways pretty tough, and has gotten through many things that were hard for her. However, it seems like an exaggeration to say she'll be fine. Skipper rarely lets anything be easy for herself, and her approach to life is not exactly a recipe for "fine." So their reassurances, meant to be kind and helpful, only highlighted for me the fact that the way Skipper gets to "fine" is usually paved with broken glass and cactus spines. And she's the one who does the paving.
However, she was of course fine. It sounds like she had a good day. I don't think she talked, but everybody's used to that. She described with great enthusiasm a classmate's "awesomest hairdo ever!" which sounds like a fauxhawk. I think that may have been a highlight of the day.
Also, a note on inner Southeast Portland in 2014: Duchess has two classmates named Calvin, and Skipper has two classmates (one male, one female) named Arlo.
Also, one last note on Skipper: she announced today while trotting off to the bathroom, "My butt poops out enormous turds ... and tiny birds!"
*This is not true. She has lots of clothes that fit her just fine.
** The ones whose blithe children who were happily yelling out "HI SKIPPER!!!! HI!!!!!!!!" while Skipper cowered and wept.
When I left her in her classroom, she was crying, which was of course extra-terrible for Skipper because when you're the only kid in the class crying, all the other kids stare at you, which is a thing she spends most of her energy trying to avoid. Other parents** said to me as I was leaving "Don't worry, she'll be fine!" which was of course true in the sense that she would stop crying, and get through her day. I was actually not distressed by the acute situation, as I know that Skipper is in some ways pretty tough, and has gotten through many things that were hard for her. However, it seems like an exaggeration to say she'll be fine. Skipper rarely lets anything be easy for herself, and her approach to life is not exactly a recipe for "fine." So their reassurances, meant to be kind and helpful, only highlighted for me the fact that the way Skipper gets to "fine" is usually paved with broken glass and cactus spines. And she's the one who does the paving.
However, she was of course fine. It sounds like she had a good day. I don't think she talked, but everybody's used to that. She described with great enthusiasm a classmate's "awesomest hairdo ever!" which sounds like a fauxhawk. I think that may have been a highlight of the day.
Also, a note on inner Southeast Portland in 2014: Duchess has two classmates named Calvin, and Skipper has two classmates (one male, one female) named Arlo.
Also, one last note on Skipper: she announced today while trotting off to the bathroom, "My butt poops out enormous turds ... and tiny birds!"
*This is not true. She has lots of clothes that fit her just fine.
** The ones whose blithe children who were happily yelling out "HI SKIPPER!!!! HI!!!!!!!!" while Skipper cowered and wept.
Comments