transitions

Tomorrow my beloved Pikachus will go to their very first day of School.

The supplies are purchased. Their heavy backpacks are packed, their lunches made, their new school clothes laid out. Sigh. Seems only yesterday they were 5. Oh wait, they're still 5...

Registration for school has been a practice in patience. It started at 5am on Friday when Beloved went to go stand in line for the aftercare program. When did it get so competitive? When the west side schools became overcrowded. Sure, the real estate is cheap over there and the shopping is good, but their schools are too busy. So far, not a problem for us.

The school they will be attending is small and cozy, only 200-and-something kids. Ideal. It's blocks away from the house, it has a neighborhood feel. So far so good.

The system is confusing and complex. Each school does its own thing, has its own list of supplies, its own schedule, its own rules. Finding this information has been challenging. It challenges the part of me who wants to plan ahead and the part of me who needs to know stuff.

Now that my little ones will be part of the system, my calendar will suddenly change. I can no longer break them out early to go play hookie, or leave town early to travel to a weekend race. I'll have new appointments to make - new appointments with times I'll have little control over. My freedom to take my children when I please is gone.

I feel I've become the school system's bitch.

We went to the open house for the school on Monday meet teachers and maybe some of their classmates. I was happy to find that their new teachers were just exactly what I want in a kindergarten teacher: young, smart, and in love with the world. And they speak Kindergartner. So far so good.

The girls walked in to their new classroom and immediately started in like they own the place. I think this is a good sign. They picked up a game and asked if we would play with them, so we sat down and read the instructions and started to play. It was a pretty simple game, take turns, roll dice, pick out bits of treasure and put them into a little treasure chest. First one to get to 10 wins (so clever how they throw in the learning thing with the fun thing). We decided to act like proper parents and ask them lots of questions like how many is 3 and 6? Why that's nine, mummy. Thank you for asking.

Oh my God they are so Smart. Busy, but smart. I often refer to My People as the Jack Russell Terriers: if you don't give them jobs, they turn destructive. I have also been known to call them the Agents of Chaos (AOC).

Another little one comes up to ask if she could play too. We say sure you can, and we hand over a treasure chest. It's clear my children are superior, this new child can't even roll the dice.

I turn to my husband and say to him, out of earshot of My People, I predict they'll be in college by the end of Kindergarten.

He says, "oh you're just being a mom."

What? Like this is a problem?

I have to confess I'm actually really un-nervous about the transition (and as a result, so are they). We've explained to them that we think it'll be fun, they'll learn new things, they'll make new friends. They said goodbye to their friends at pre-school today without so much as a tear. Goodbye old friends, see you sometime (it probably helped that they said goodbye with cupcakes). They seem really ready to move forward. I haven't gotten too emotional about anything so far, but I suppose that could all change tomorrow.