Checking in

Daisy has named two of her headbands. Their names are "Flowersworth" and "Wacky Rose." She says things like, "I feel like wearing Wacky Rose today" and "I haven't worn Flowersworth to kindergarten yet." I find this cute.

Things have been continuing to go well for Daisy at kindergarten, and I find that the problem, if anything, is me. I have a hard time not worrying. I think pointless thoughts, like, "Maybe she should have spent another year in preschool"--not because she's not mentally ready for kindergarten, but I worry about emotional readiness. I took her out of her familiar, safe, happy place, where she had a close friend she looked forward to seeing every day, and I've put her somewhere totally new. There is only one other girl in her kindergarten class, and luckily, they seem to like each other. And there are first-grade girls who are in the same room. I don't mean to say that she couldn't be friends with boys--she has friends who are boys--but I've noticed that same-sex bonding seems important at this age. (Ha, that reminds me: when I walked Daisy through the door this morning, one of the first-grade girls exclaimed, "Oh good, there's another girl here now!" The room really does seem to have a lot more boys in it.)

Daisy seems fine, and I don't even exactly know what my problem is. It's not the school, as I remain convinced it was a great choice for my daughter: small, cozy and nurturing, yet characterized by stimulating academics. Boy, that's one thing about Daisy--she is intellectually active. Cognitively speaking, I think she was more than ready for kindergarten. She is coming home full of details about what she learned at school. Last night she sang us a "liquids, solids, and gases" song at dinner and told us all about "molecules." She is learning Spanish and seems to love the acting class they do. She looks forward to doing her homework at night! And her astronomy questions have officially transcended my ability to answer them. She asked me a million questions about the setting of the sun last night, as we drove past the ocean and saw it sinking. I took a stab at it, babbling something about the rotation of the earth, but, yeah, I'm going to have to do research now in order to answer her questions adequately.

So, yeah, the problem is me. I guess I have to face the fact that transitions are hard for me. I miss her preschool. I miss the people, mainly. I miss the feeling of belonging somewhere. I knew it would be this way. When we started preschool, I felt similarly lonely. It takes a while to fit in somewhere, to develop relationships and an identity that means something in the new context. Here I am, immersed in change. I gave up my MFT program and went back to teaching after two years, another big transition. I am finally at a point where I can feel a little sad about quitting the MFT program; for months I couldn't feel anything but relief. I still think it was the right decision, but it's good to be able to feel some sadness about it, now that the anger (at how my traineeship agency treated us) and relief have dissipated.