He attended a nearby church's playschool one day each week all year, and yesterday was the last day of the summer program. In September, he'll begin school two days a week at our church, Westminster Presbyterian.
But he loved school this year. Loved it loved it loved it. We'd walk down the hallway and into his classroom, and he would usually stand there for a few minutes, just taking it all in. Then he'd bolt forward toward the toys. Sometimes he'd turn back to give me a quick hug and kiss--usually at the prompting of his teacher--but usually he was ready to Play.
And William'll be just fine at his new school. After all, he already knows a lot of the kids and teachers from Sunday School, and he's familiar with the classrooms and playground from going to church with me every Monday morning for my Disciple class. Even if he wasn't already comfortable in that environment, he's so social and flexible that I think he'd adapt quickly.
But I was a little sad to say goodbye to Bellevue Presbyterian. His teachers this year were really terrific. They always were so warm and welcoming--to both of us. He had Miss Nora and Miss Theresa during the school year, and Miss Angela and Miss Theresa (see below) for the summer. They loved to tell me about how William chatted and chatted and always made everyone laugh.
William was always so proud to show me his art project each time I picked him up after school. He'd proudly show me a picture of a rooster that he'd scribbled with orange crayon, or a page with stars stamped on it with red and blue ink. Before I could load up all his stuff and take him to the car, he'd have to tell me about his project. I have most of them stashed away in a plastic folder. A few are hanging on the fridge. I will save the best ones for always.
So, yes, I got a little sniffly when I picked him up yesterday, knowing it was the last time. And it was the last time I'd get to chat with his teachers, too. I know that William will go to a lot of different schools in his lifetime, and this is just the first transition. It will be fine (can you hear me talking myself into it?). He'll be fine; he already is. He had a lot of fun at his school, and he's ready to go on and have more fun at his new school.
I'm just being a little sentimental at yet another milestone in my child's life. I tend to do that. I was the same way, actually, about my own transitions. Even when I was moving from one good place to another good--or even better--place, I always felt a few pangs of loss. They never lasted long, and I know this feeling will dissipate soon, too. I'm just making the mental break and saying my goodbyes. Miss Theresa told me to come back to visit sometime and say hello and bring a copy of the photo that I took of the three of them. I'll have to do that.
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