I have a hard time believing you're in first grade. It seems so much older than kindergarten. Kindergarten still feels young. Just barely out of preschool. The youngest class at elementary school. But FIRST grade? The very name implies that it's just the beginning, the first in a long line of grades. Before we know it you'll be in second grade. We'll blink and you'll be in fifth grade. Ninth grade. Twelfth grade.
Tomorrow you'll head into that first grade classroom, and I know that you'll warm up more when we're not around. You were extra shy and refusing to talk when we met your teacher today. I know that won't last long after I've dropped you off in the morning. It was frustrating, though, to see you that way.
You're an incredibly smart and sweet girl, but you've been giving us a heck of a time lately with the baby talk and the whining and the not doing what we ask you to do. You've been masking rudeness with shyness, and we've had to put our foot down. Maybe you're just nervous about the changes coming with a new school, new teacher and new friends. Maybe this is just a hurdle we have to get over so that you can take that next step into being more grown up. We know you can do it. (We know WE can do it, too, although it's hard to see my baby turning into this lanky GIRL)
Any minute now that first tooth is going to fall out (we can see the new tooth fighting its way in beneath it!) and from behind that big girl gap-toothed grin you'll be begging for play dates and telling me what you did at school today, in first grade.
If I keep saying it, maybe I'll believe it.
But you. You will bloom in first grade. I just know it.