Three weeks ago we got a letter from her kindergarten teacher about supplies and welcoming Orianna to school. She sent a picture of a t-shirt for Orianna to decorate, since their theme this year is going to be baseball. Orianna's response to this was "what is baseball?" Obviously, we have failed her as an American family. But over the last weekend, Orianna got to watch a couple games of baseball, even if they weren't according to major league standards.
As soon as I saw the shirt that had to be decorated I started to feel inadequate. "I am going to ruin Orianna's chances in school because I will decorate this shirt all wrong!" Owen told me this quote from Peanuts yesterday, which pretty much sums up my fears and worries for Oiranna.
I can’t go to school tomorrow! I have the flu! I’ll miss the first
day! Years from now, do you know what people will say about me?
“He’s one day dumber than he should be!
BASEBALL SHIRTS ARE IMPORTANT!!!! They signify our philosophy as parents (do we decorate it nicely and attractively or let the little imp scribble all over it?), our committedness to her school experience (do we have Orianna take a day to think it over, letting the true importance of this sink in or do we just let her have a whack at it within 20 minutes of receiving said shirt picture?), our socioeconomic status by what we let her decorate it with (crayons, for a classic, understated middle class All-American look? markers for a typical middle class look? paint for an avant garde, bohemian, our-daughter-will-be-more-artistic-than-yours look? or sparkley glue for a middle class trying to be cool and actually just making the paper all wrinkly look?).
It was too much for me. I made Justin do it. I traded him one baseball shirt picture for a kindergarten passport, which involved writing, cutting, and pictures. In case you missed it, we got this THREE weeks ago. Last night, as I am getting Orianna's backpack all ready while the kids were overrunning the bathroom with bubbles (bubble bath in a jacuzzi tub is trouble) I suddenly realized that I hadn't bought her the two glue sticks OR the animal crackers for snack. And then I turned the page and saw her completely blank and untouched passport to kindergarten. AHH! Now I have really and truly ruined my daughter's first day. She will fail her preparedness test and be sent home with a mother detention. I managed to restrain myself from driving to the store, 12 miles away for animal crackers and glue sticks (I don't think they are used together...) and decided to give her an old fat glue stick and tell her teacher I am an idiot for not getting animal crackers after doing her passport to kindergarten.
The passport to kindergarten went well. Hopefully she will be able to cross the border between the front office and classroom.
And..... tada! I cried when she got on the bus. I sobbed the night after getting her kindergarten letters (this could be attributed to performance stress on the baseball t-shirt picture... ) and then decided it wasn't about me and my lonesome and bereft emotions, so I was NOT going to cry or hug her too tight or generally act like I was sending her to outer space. Justin is a very understanding husband and good daddy, so he stayed home a little late to put Orianna on the school bus so I wouldn't have to embarrass myself or my daughter by sobbing. It was just Orianna being timid that made me cry! Those unsure, hesitant steps to the bus that got me. She had been scared and excited, but this morning, she was mostly excited. Until the bus came. And then she was mostly nervous. And now I am crying again. Pay no mind. I am just the mother of a kindergartener. I can cry like no one's business.
The bubbly bubble bath.
See the bubbles washed over the side? Yeah... they were all over the floor because I was so busy worrying about Orianna's passport to kindergarten.
Passports are important.
Little miss trembly lip. She wasn't excited by all this talk of Orianna going to school. Partially because she wanted to go to.
Orianna laid her outfit out carefully.
This is Orianna with a cat (because she can draw cats). And Orianna is not a princess, but she put a crown there because she wanted her hair to be pretty. And those are high heels, not peg legs.
The top half of the baseball t-shirt (Justin went for the let Orianna scribble on it within 10 minutes, with paper wrinkling sparkly glue and markers) AND my I-am-an-idiot note. I figure it is better to just get that out there at the beginning of the school year, rather than making pretenses.
Cry. Cry. Cry.
And this is the current situation. They are good pals too. Lily has asked a couple times when Orianna will be home, but seems pretty okay with things.