Marmalade had her first day of kindergarten yesterday.
Mohamed said he felt like we were throwing her in the deep end;
and in a way, we were.
After three years and three months of always being with one of us
(except three hours last Spring when we went to a concert in Bahrain
& she stayed at home with her cousins & Mohamed’s parents),
he dropped off our English-(& Persian)-speaking daughter
at a school with two teachers and ten kids, all speaking Portuguese,
a language she’s only recently begun to experience,
after three years of being immersed in the German-speaking world.
I stayed home during the drop-off,
because I was nervous for her and didn’t want it to show,
and I wanted her to be as brave as she always has been.
After such a transitional summer and fall,
I hope for her to find good friends
and have some stability in her life.
She was somewhat excited to go,
a bit disappointed that I wasn’t coming for the ride,
but did okay until they got to school.
All those strange faces was a bit much, and she got shy;
it took over an hour before she’d leave Mohamed’s side.
But eventually she started to befriend another girl,
and Mohamed slipped out of sight.
So Day One was survived;
let’s hope Day Two is better.
As she was leaving, she said she wanted a party.
So I made a chocolate buttermilk cake for her return.
After dinner, we lit three candles and sang.
She blew out the candles and then we sang again.
And again. And again. Then we ate cake.
The first few years of school were my favorite,
and I hope the same will be true for her,
She deserves a good childhood.
And since the holidays are coming up,
I hope they do some festive projects
that might lure her into school some more.
Overall, the house was too quiet when she was gone.
So I stayed outside, walking with Nutella,
transplanting grass to clear the garden box,
cutting down huge, dried out, thorny flower stalks,
repainting an anti-rust treatment over parts of our car.
The cork siding should be delivered this afternoon.
So more work outside to keep us busy.