Skipping Town

Dear Lucia, You've finished preschool last week! Three years--done. This was by far the hardest year to say goodbye to, for me at least. You had a pre-K year that was wonderful beyond words. Exceptionally warm and talented teachers, supportive and welcoming preschool community, lovely classmates and families, activities that fully embraced both fun and kindergarten prep. We couldn't have asked for more. On the way home from your last day, I asked you how you felt, anticipating sadness; but all you said, happily, was, "I feel like kindergarten." You loved this year but are eagerly anticipating the next big thing, which is as it should be. Month by month, you're becoming more of a five-year-old, curious and funny and so much yourself in ways that--I have to admit--have little to do with me. You still love reading books together, and your interest in identifying sight words is growing--my ambitious goal for the summer is to get you even closer to reading

Dear Grets, Well, you did it: you made it through your first year of preschool. It started off dramatically, with so many tears and so much clinging and sadness. I'll never forget peeking into your classroom after your first day of school, expecting a happy, proud baby, and seeing instead your sad, tear-streaked little face, lips quivering, barely holding it together--and then you losing it completely when you finally caught sight of me. I don't think you've ever sobbed so tragically. We started your preschool experience by sobbing together as the other kids and parents milled about. Happily, things changed for you. For a while, you cried when I left, and I spent the first two weeks of school hanging out in a nearby meeting room just in case you needed me (you didn't). Eventually, you gave me sad, worried looks, but no longer cried. And then--it all clicked for you. You gave me a hug goodbye and traipsed into the classroom with nary a backward glance. I won't