Her outfit is laid out. The backpack is labeled, and has been filled with crayons, glue sticks, markers, pencils... We did some role playing at bedtime where she introduced herself to me (someone in her class). We giggled as I pretended to be people from the Ramona books we've just finished.
This morning, Willa had a hard time listening and acting like... well, herself. When I asked her what was going on, she shuffled her feet and mumbled "Idon'tknow." A minute later, she whispered in my ear, "I know what's going on. I'm nervous about tomorrow.
I am about to pack her lunch. I want to include a note. I'll just write "I love you." I know she can read that. Also, it's not very appropriate to write this:
I'm nervous too. How is your teacher going to be able to make sure you're safe and learning and making friends when there are 34 kids in her class? How will she know you're left handed? I'm nervous that you'll have a hard time finding someone to sit next to at lunch. Or that you'll be the kid clinging to her mom at drop off. Worse yet, I'm worried that I'll be the mom clinging to her student. I'm nervous about packing you the right lunch. Are you going to be comfortable in your new clothes? Will you remember to shut the door when you use the school bathroom? Will you want to go back for day two?
I'm nervous about how Henry will cope with his co-conspirator gone during the day. I'm worried about how my role is changing as you both grow up - SO FAST!
But then I take a deep breath.
And I am comforted in knowing that you are a friendly little girl. You are smart. You are strong. You will get what you need, and try for what you want. You will make friends fast. You are kind and caring and respectful, and funny. You will do great, kid.