Lee Thomson

Alice headed off to Montessori School, first day of Fourth Year. The backpack is stuffed with the things they would like her to keep at school (spare clothes, a mug for coffee cocoa, smock for art projects, etc. plus a healthy lunch.

We were ready so early it wasn’t funny. We sat with the other madly-anticipating-school people on a bench until we the kids were allowed in. Parents were stopped at the door, and allowed to peer through a one-way mirror (brilliant but ever-so-slightly creepy) to see how they were settling. They were all settling fine. Alice was first in the door, wearing her new glasses, finding someone to sit next to, ready to roll.

I have always considered the first day of school a triumph if my child was not the one wrapped around my ankles weeping, and I was not the mom in the car with her head on the steering wheel weeping. There was no weeping, ergo, must be a triumph.