Today is Greta's last day of first grade, and I'm wistful.
She has grown up so much in the past year. Here she is on the first day of first grade:
This morning she lost a tooth. "MOM! It finally fell out!" she shouted to me as she raced around getting dressed, collecting her things for school. In the past nine months losing a tooth has ceased to be a stop-everything-oh-my-God event. She's growing up.
On the first day of first grade, she cried a little. She was scared of the bus, thought she wouldn't make any friends, was worried that she wouldn't fit in because she didn't know how to read or write very well.
Today she was jumping up and down with excitement, prattling on and on about all her friends, her teacher, how much she is going to miss school. She adores the bus.
"I sat with a SECOND GRADER today," she said, about two months after school started. Today she is becoming the second grader.
Earlier this week she brought home the journal she kept all year at school, a journal they wrote in weekly. I sat quietly last night and read through everything, my heart in my throat.
She isn't a little kid anymore, she is becoming a young woman, with a huge heart and a killer sense of humor. She has her own hopes and dreams:
"I want to go to the Grand Canyon, because at the bottom
there is lots of water and fish"
As I read through her journal, my heart swelled with gratitude. I would have missed all this. Even if I had physically been there, which is doubtful, mentally I was never there.
Now I get to be present for everything. When I was drinking, she would say things like "but Mom, you're always sick". Now she draws pictures of the two of us together, smiling. We're the same size, in matching outfits: