First Day, First Impressions

Dear Marshall,

Your first day of preschool was August 29 and I am setting this post to that date, because it belongs there. It is December now, exactly four months later, but I still remember that day vividly. I was so nervous about putting you on the bus, especially since your father had to be elsewhere that morning. You had never been out of our care for more than a few hours, and we had only ever left you with family. I worried about letting you go somewhere without me. And I worried how you’d feel about getting on the bus by yourself.

The bus was late, as buses usually are on the first day of school. I forgot about being nervous as I struggled to keep you busy. We talked, we paced, we popped seed cases on the jewelweed that grows next to the driveway. Then the bus finally showed up . . . and drove right by!

While I watched the bus turn around, you squatted down and rubbed your hands in the dirt (recycled asphalt, really) of the driveway. When I saw what you had done, I was horrified. I pulled you up, but it was too late. Both palms were black. I tried to brush them off, but all that that accomplished was to dirty my own hands.

I had no time to think about what to do, because the bus pulled into the driveway, the door opened, and you bounded up the steps without even looking back at me. I watched numbly as you raised a hand to wipe it on your clean, new shirt and then disappeared into the bus. I could only hope that the teachers would wash your hands off when you got to school. Some first impression you (and by extension, your parents) must have made that day!

But you once again impressed me with your willingness to meet life head-on. Preschool was just the first step of what I hope will be a long and rewarding life’s adventure, but it was a definite success. Well done, little adventurer!

Love,

Mom