Ivy went to school yesterday for an hour of orientation with Tannis there to fill in forms and be nearby. They found out that her class is being split into two smaller classes of 13 students each -- can't argue with that student-teacher ratio. This morning she was determined to ride the bus to her second day of school, with no mommy and daddy around...until halfway through breakfast when she broke down in tears and started rethinking the bus plan. So we agreed that I'd take her in the car and we'd follow the bus to school to get the hang of the route.
On the way, we watched kids get on the bus and I suggested that Ivy could try envisioning what it might be like to be on the bus with them, seeing the same orchards going by and following the same route without me there. She asked me to define "envisioning" (she's a total word geek, always wanting to know what things mean), but before I could finish my explanation, she interrupted me: "Daddy, maybe if you'd stop talking, I could do some better envisioning." Fair enough.
When we got there, she insisted that I escort her to the room. We we were a bit early, so she played on the playground for a while, running over to me to announce that she had "made a bunch of friends already" and indeed she was running with a pack by the time the door to the room was opened to welcome them in. She gave me a quick kiss and a "see ya in two hours" before disappearing in a swarm of kids with new backpacks, bright eyes and hovering parents. Super, super cute.
Just as we left home, I grabbed the camera and asked her what she was expecting to do at school:
Afterwards, she toured me around her classroom
(after asking her teacher permission, of course) proudly, and I saw her hanging out with old and new friends
in the schoolyard
. Her main report was: "My first day of Kindergarten was very fun, very exciting...but also very tiring." The kids apparently all did well, pouring out with new paintings and energy to burn. So it begins.