First Day of School

Last Friday marked the end of an era and a new beginning. My baby, well little girl now, started her first day of pre-school. She's 3.

She's in a French Montessori program, a school that costs the equivalent of another mortgage and where hopeful parents who have mulled the decision over carefully have decided that this is indeed the 'best' school around and therefore warrants the cost. Apparently the head of child psychology at an Ottawa University also sends her child there so this must be 'the' place. I simply want her to learn French. If she does, I'll feel I've done my job as a parent, readying her for a promising bilingual future. But is this really the right move? Do we ever really know that we're making 'the' best decisions for our kids?

This investment I must add also buys you about 20 different forms to read and 20 more rules to adhere to: rules about parking, drop-offs and pick-up times, late fees (holy cow don't be 5 mins late!), nut allergies, acceptable lunches, inside clothes and shoes vs outside, sports gear and it goes on. You also must commit to preparing a snack for 19 children one day a month. So really, I feel like we've started school too all over again. I didn't much like it the first time around... so far not quite liking it the second either.

Parents all around us are making different decisions for theirs. Some have decided it's not worth the money, some don't have the money and some have made a conscious decision not to socialize their kids until the standard age of entry to public school. That was me, I was with my Mom till the age of 5 and she had taught me to read and write and count in both English and French by the time I went in as she was a stay-at-home Mom. That said, I was also surrounded by a large religious community and already had tremendous social and presentation skills. I was thinking of all of this as I got up today at a ridiculous (in Sam's world) time.

I dutifully got us up (did I mention much earlier than I think is humane?) this morning and shared breakfast with Ashiah at her kiddy table while we giggled together and cuddled. She picked out her own shirt (she's already at the 'no mummy I don't want to wear that, I don't look pretty' stage) god help us, but the rest went pretty smoothly... that is until it was time to leave with Daddy as it's understood that the parent who has the least trouble leaving their child should drop them during the first week. I finally extricated myself from her at the door as I handed Daddy her Dora lunch box, her favorite shiny black 'indoor' shoes and her water canteen. Daddy explained that they would have to look for 'water monsters' on the way to the car as it's pouring out which peaked her curious interest. I must admit that she looked ever cute in her strawberry covered raincoat and designer rain boots I happened to pick-up for a bargain the other day. But she looked sad and my oh so dutiful parenting suddenly felt pretty shitty.

I called Greg 30 mins later to get the update and sure enough, she ran back out of the school after Greg took her in and then tried a second escape. The teacher brought her in a 3rd time and Greg left as Ashiah kept a sad look on her face. I should point out that we went through this last Friday but when we picked her up, she was the happiest kid, so proud to have gone to school and "I spoke French Mummy!" She related the words she'd learned and the new friends she made and well, that felt much better than this morning...

Things went much smoother when she started daycare at 10 mths old. I'd given myself a month off work to acclimatize her and it took her a day. I cried last Thursday when I picked her up from there for the last time. Her provider, has been like a second mother to her and what more can you hope for when you leave what's most precious to you in someone else's care? Now she's in a class with 4 teachers and 18 other kids. A whole new world for her and for us. We've started school.