forms

Somehow I've been mothering long enough now that I sit at my desk, filling out forms for Claire's impending start of school.  For real.

Early this spring, the head of school from the local Montessori that I worked for before having Claire called me up to see if I'd be up for a little work/trade come this fall.  They would be needing some help in the office, and so would I want to come in a couple or a few mornings a week and do just that in exchange for Claire being in a classroom during that time?  Hmmm.  We thought about it a bit.  School for her wasn't even on our radar, honestly.  I'd devoted only a teensy tiny bit of time thinking about it, and never did get much beyond "maybe we can put her in a class at the Montessori school some day" and "maybe we'll homeschool"......  Wouldn't be saving us any cash since we weren't planning to spend it anyway.  Wouldn't be freeing up my time since I'd be there working anyway.

We went in to feel it out.  She loved it.  I kinda figured she would.  So we said yes.  Just 2 mornings a week though.  Her teacher is a friend of ours and I trust her completely with being in the role of guiding Claire for a handful of hours each week.  I am excited for her (Claire).  I know being in that environment will expose her to a community and social scene filled with her peers that she hasn't had much experience with, and I feel that the time is absolutely right for that.  Of course she will be exposed to a ton of other great and grand things as well, but at the ripe old age of 2 1/2, it's the playing and socializing that I'm most seeking.  The rest can wait.  Or not.  But it's up to her at this point.

I'm not even nervous or teary about it either.  Not really.  No doubt that has something (a lot) to do with the fact that I'll be 20 feet away in the office and that the grand total of weekly schooling will come to a mere 6 hours, but certainly it must be at least partly because I am made of steel and am super tough.  For now, anyway.

Yep.  School forms.  She is getting out there and spreading those tiny little bird wings just the littlest bit.

I remain ever grateful that the bittersweetness of mothering seems, for me at least, to continue to be somewhat balanced out by the excitement of what is right around the corner.