Olivia Goes to Preschool

Shhhh...do you hear that? It's the sound of no children in my house. Today is Olivia's first day of preschool. I just got home a few minutes ago from the surprisingly easy drop-off. I was fully prepared for a struggle, hoping it wouldn't compare to the waterworks of last year. (A quick refresher: Olivia was enrolled in Children's Day Out for 3 weeks. 3 weeks was how long it took for her to revisit her separation anxiety - last seen when she was 8 months old, create an air of anxiety in her classroom full of already-anxious children, and frustrate the preschool's entire teaching staff to the fullest extent. I mean, 3 hours of continuous crying would try a saint's patience. That may seem harsh, but hey, you weren't there.)

I think we were fortunate that Meredith started a few weeks ago. Olivia got to see the routine, see how much fun Meredith was having, and realize how much she missed playing with someone while Meredith was at school. And this year we didn't hype the whole school idea too much, hoping we wouldn't create any anxiety. But we did go last night and pick out a new dress - a purple dress, of course - and some new shoes.

So back to today. After a breakfast of her all-time favorite Eggo waffles, we headed out the door. She was ready - no stalling, no whining. Just an occasional "NOW can we go?"

After dropping Meredith off, we headed to preschool. We were really early, which I think worked to our advantage. It helped, too, that her buddy Colby was there to explore with her. (That's the two of them, walking into school together.)

The school was quiet and Olivia got to explore her classroom and check out all the toys (the dollhouse was the clear favorite)

and poke a finger in Baxter's cage (the rabbit from Meredith's class last year, who Olivia says "sure got bigger!").

As I'm talking to her teacher, Miss Susan, I hear Olivia say "excuse me Miss Susan." Not a bad first impression to make (I'm secretly hoping Susan was one of the few teachers who didn't hear the crying coming from Olivia's classroom last year and that none of the other teachers warned her about her hysterics). Susan says "Yes?" and Olivia proceeds to soooo sweetly ask "Can I please play with the dollhouse?" Awwwwww.

We said our goodbyes and I made sure she understood we were leaving but that we'd be back soon. She sorta acknowledged me, in between her comments about the dollhouse's twin babies and mommy with the gold hair and the baby swing hanging in the house's corner and its secret compartment under the stairs.

Here's hoping that in a couple of hours, when we pick her up after her first day, we hear about how much fun she had. And that when she comes out of her classroom we don't see tear streaks on her cheeks and a crusty nose. Maybe then I'll be able to enjoy the deafening silence of my empty house...

+++++ UPDATE +++++

So...phew! She loved it. She says she had so much fun and is excited to go back. What a HUGE relief. My only concern is that when we picked her up we walked inside to get her (instead of driving up like we will in the future) and she said "I thought you left, but you didn't leave!" Hmmm. Well, at least she had was alright thinking we'd left.

She had great stories to share too. She told us how they all went potty at the same time and there were two "terlets" - one for grown-ups and one for big girls (the smaller stool). She talked about looking in a magnifying glass at books, sitting in a circle "but not a whole circle, a rainbow circle", singing songs about a bee, taking a rest on square carpets that had bumps, playing with the baby dolls, having rainbow-colored "smunched" goldfish for a snack and water in cups like Gramma's (dixie cups), and the fact that another little girl had the same shoes as her so "we have to go home and put them on so everyone can see them quick!"

Now, if you listen closely you'll hear my gigantic sigh of relief...