Don't let the door hit you...

So today Karly started preschool. The director warned us that she might cry for awhile when we dropped her off. That we would have to be strong and walk out even if she sobbed.

But crying was not on our daughter's agenda this morning. Instead she walked right in, sat down at the picnic table, and started munching on graham crackers with the gang. Jon, Kiki, and I said goodbye, and she threw us a quick wave over her shoulder (i.e. don't let the door hit you on your way out!!). So we backed toward the exit and watched her watching all her new friends.

Forget sobs. I was waiting for a little tear. A trembling lower lip. A last minute hug when she realized we'd soon be gone.

No luck.

We filled out paperwork in the office, and as we left, I stopped to watch Karly filling a pail with sand on the busy playground. She turned and saw us.

This was it! She would run to the fence, bawling, arms outstretched, begging for Jon and I not to go...

Instead Karly lifted her shovel, and with a smile and a salute, she shouted, "Look at me, Mommy! I'm in school!!" Then she turned back to her sand and overflowing pail.

The house was too quiet when Jon left for work. Kiki and I stared at each other. What do we do now? Karly's the one who makes the noise.

Kiki sauntered into the living room, picked up a book, and sat down by the window to read. I hopped on my computer and hammered out the back story for a novel I've had stuck in my head for months.

I was actually able to think this morning, and Kiki got some much needed quiet...but we still missed Karly. Four hours later, we picked her up from school, and she rewarded me with a hug. Then she asked me if she could stay.

Sigh.

I'm glad she likes school. Really, I am...