Growing Up!

My girl started school last Monday.

After years in a uniform of hunter green polo shirts and khaki skorts, she was a little more excited than she probably should have been to do some school shopping. I wish we could have gone crazy, but a little thing I like to call "budget" got in the way of that.

She was sent a package of jeans from one of my besties and her ebay account, and we were able to scoop up some seriously cute shirts, one of which is pictured below. Note that she likes cute skulls. Hahaha! I love that girl! She's seriously the coolest kid I know, all up in the fashion world, but maintaining a modest and youthful eye. She knows that writing across the butt of shorts is trashy (like we need to be drawing attention to an already too-cute-for-perverted-eyes buttox), that she can't wear short shorts (though we've had issues with this. She's not trying to wear 'dukes or anything, but it's near impossible to find appropriate length shorts these days. Gross!), along with a couple other guidelines that she appreciates, respects, and generally doesn't challenge (though somehow we can't escape the slinky, rouched material that keeps popping up which I can't stand for no real reason than I just don't like it. No offense to anyone that does, it's just not my thing and I can't get past it.).

We rode our bikes up to the school, which is only about a block from our house, and I stayed back a bit. I didn't want to be THAT hovering mom, but I don't think she'd have been embarrassed if I had been. I think I was more concerned with it than she was. Either way, I kept my distance and watched.

The kids lined up, grade by grade, nervous excitement lingering above their heads - boys were punchy and goofy, girls giggly and checky-out-clothes-y. I eyed her class line as we treked to the back (we didn't know where her class was gathered and ended up being the LAST to line up!), and not one kid even glanced at her. They noticed her, just didn't pay attention. I told myself it was because they were so excited and nervous, and not because they were a bunch of snobs, and we walked, head high, to the baaaaack of the liiiiine.

As we passed, one red-headed boy that she'd met the week prior at Vacation Bible School told his group of buddies "I know that girl." Okay, good, that's good. One kid. A start.

As I stood a few feet from her, watching her, praying like CRAZY that she'd make friends right away, that her teacher would love her, that she'd meet good Christian kids, stand up to boys, and avoid mean girls, that she would never BE a mean girl, that the school would be protected from any human or natural violence... oh, I prayed HARD... it was all I could do to keep from raising my arms over her and the school to lay hands on them and start chanting.

And I was so grateful that I'm a sunglasses addict.

Fourth grade, and I still cried on my kid's first day. Does that part ever go away?

She came home after her first day at a new, big public school (it's really not even big. There are like 50 in her grade - which also happens to be close to the population of her entire old school - it's just big in comparison) and had made a friend. The next day, she'd made friends with her friend's friends over the lunch table. By the end of the week she's got a whole group of buddies, girls and boys. And she's adjusted like a champ.

I am incomprehensibly proud of that girl. She is going to do great, great things for this world.

One tiny little step, in our tiny little town, and my girl is getting big before my eyes! :')

Cheerio!
Jessica