Today was Anna's first day of preschool.
(I have pictures, but they'll have to wait because our main computer is still waaaay down in Chico, CA being repaired.)
Her teachers asked me if I thought she'd have a hard time starting school. They wanted to know if she would cry, if she would cling, if she would pine.
I said I didn't think so.
What I wasn't prepared for was this:
Miss Anna: Mom, do you have to walk me to the door?
Me: Well, it's your first day. I want to get a picture. I promise, you can walk by yourself tomorrow.
Me: (At the door) Bye, Anna! I love you!
Miss Anna: (Without even a glance over her shoulder) See ya, Mom.
The teacher looked at me. I looked at the teacher. She threw up her hands. "All right then!"
I stood outside the door for another moment, for sentimental reasons, and then returned slowly to the car.
Sophie cried all the way home about not being able to go to school with Anna.
"In a few years, honey," I said. "Soon enough...."
And then I spent a blissful, totally quiet afternoon lying in bed, reading my friend's manuscript, writing a query letter for my WiP while Sophie napped.
But the best part of the story is: Anna was ready. And she had a fantastic afternoon in preschool.
"I even wrote hundreds of letters," she told me afterwards. "Because I'm going to learn to write everything."