The first day of kindergarten was not without its share of drama. Or blurry photos, for that matter.
But when you capture a moment like this:

do you really care if the kid turned out a little fuzzy? But hey, the crap on the floor is SHARP.
That face was in response to me telling her she could not wear the pink sandals you see on the left side of the picture.
The kid has been begging nonstop to wear new clothes, and the day I tell her she can, she chooses to pair the ensemble with sandals that have seen two summers and are so small that her toes extend beyond the tip of the sole.
Whatev.
Eventually she came around and put a smile on her face when DADDY asked to take her picture.

Then daddy stepped in a set the tone for the morning.

Crazy.
The girl said she wanted waffles for breakfast, but as luck would have it, we had eaten the last of the waffles this weekend. So I decided to make some from scratch because every child’s first day of kindergarten should include waffles if she wants them.
Only after I got the batter going and heated up the waffle iron did she tell me she didn’t actually want waffles for breakfast. She just wanted sausage.
Um, no, we’re having waffles.
But she didn’t like the taste of the waffles I put on her plate. That would be freshness, my dear. It’s the exact same recipe I use for the ones I pull out of the freezer for you every day. Only these are hot and contain much more love. You might also detect a hint of irritation.
More drama, but guess who was finally guilted into eating waffles for breakfast?

Ding!
I do not normally employ guilt as a means to get my child to eat, but at that point I was still in sweaty workout clothes and had yet to take a shower. At first she said she wanted a Rice Krispie treat instead of the waffles, a request I very adamantly refused. She threw a fit, collapsed on the floor in sobs and refused the waffles. I told her I took the time to make her those waffles PER HER REQUEST, thus making myself very late in the process.
I also locked up the Rice Krispie treats in my room because she’s exactly the kind of child who would have eaten one anyway while I was in the shower.
But when I got out of the shower she was sitting down with the waffles.
The whole drop-off experience at school was not what I thought it would be. There were kids and parents all over the place yet no one could tell me where the Spanish immersion kids were to line up before class. Kindergarten is in the other wing, they’d say. But the principal told us they line up on this side, I’d say. I was starting to get a little stressed, but she was as cool as a cucumber.

Finally I walked into the school, approached a nice-looking lady who I figured might be able to help me and admitted we had no idea where we were supposed to be. She took us to Autumn’s class, and then to the door where Autumn was to line up every day. I think we’ve got it now.
I didn’t want to leave. Other parents were hovering and l just wanted to hover, too, but I had to get to work. This was the last photo I snapped before I left.

She looks happy.
Last night after we put Autumn to bed, I told Nathan I had a feeling Autumn would be one of the kids whose name her teachers would know very well by the end of the day. And deep down I suspected it wouldn’t be because she has a great sense of humor and loves to sing ’80s rock ballads.
Call it maternal instinct, but I had a feeling there might be a little adjustment in the form of acting out. I wasn’t wrong, but I was really hoping to be. I wanted her first day to be perfect. I wanted her to be perfect.
But she wasn’t. She was, however, totally Autumn.
And that skirt you see her wearing in the pictures?
GONE.
She has no idea what happened to it.
This is going to be a long, long year.
*”Ayudame” is one of the Spanish phrases Autumn learned today. It means “help me.”
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