A Family on Five Acres: She Went, She Saw, She Conquered 4K

Sarah is officially a schoolgirl! And she made the transition with very little drama or fanfare.

Last night at dinner, she asked over and over, "Why I need to go to school, Mom?" I came up with as many fun, exciting reasons as I could, but she still acted unconvinced. In the tub, she announced, "I'm not going to get on the bus, Mom." Trying to appear unfazed, I said, "Oh, you don't want to have any fun, then?" She smiled and said, "I was just kidding!" Hardy, har, har....

Once in bed, she seemed fine and was quiet for quite a while after lights out, leading me to believe she'd fallen asleep quickly. Then, she called me in to ask some silly question, which is routine and allowed once. When she summoned the fourth time (I was cutting her some slack), I could see the grim look on her face and asked if she wanted me to lie with her while she went to sleep. We cuddled, and I sang "Rock-a-Bye Baby," accompanied by her pull-string bunny, for a while. Then she said it was enough (which I tried not to take personally) and drifted off to sleep.

I expected to hear from her again during the night, but she was quiet, and I had to wake her at 6:20. She rose cheerily enough, but soon said her head didn't want to go to school. She elaborated that her forehead didn't want to go and pulled her bangs up for me to feel. Trying to fake illness at four? She IS precocious. I assured her she didn't have a fever, and we moved on.

She has quite a morning routine, and I've been working to shorten it for a few weeks now. Until she turned four, she still drank warm milk in a sippy cup in my lap before breakfast; now that's a luxury for non-school days. She still insists on reading a book before eating, though, so we chose a short one, then proceeded to breakfast.

She was partway through her meal, when the bus went by (lucky for us, there are no through-streets in our neighborhood, and the driver agreed to pick her up on the way back out) -- about 10 minutes earlier than expected. This sent us both into a bit of a tizzy, but turned out to be good, I think, because there wasn't much time for last-minute nerves. She brushed her teeth, and we headed out to wait at the end of the driveway.

When the bus pulled up, she marched across the street holding my hand, climbed up the big steps, and took a seat in the front, where an older girl greeted her. A quick kiss, and she was on her way. I managed to hold back tears long enough to give a cheery wave and turn toward the house. Then, it was hopeless. I've never heard such silence as in our house this morning (did I mention Don's gone fishing all week?).

I busied myself with housecleaning (didn't dare go for a walk, in case I got a call from the school) and tried not to think too much about what might be happening a few miles away. My cell phone rang mid-morning, stopping my heart, but, of course, it was nothing.

At 11:00, when school ended, I took my tea and headed out to the front step to await Sarah's triumphant return. By 11:25, I was convinced she had been so traumatized by the initial bus ride that she had refused to re-board to come home. Then, I spotted the little yellow bus on the highway and watched it turn down our road. It pulled right into our driveway and discharged one happy, proud little girl.

As I gushed and asked about her day, Sarah kept saying, "Why are you so happy to see me, Mom?" as if the whole thing was no big deal. She slowly disclosed details, such as having chocolate milk for snack (probably the third time she's ever had it) and learning the playground rules. The only time she showed much emotion was when I mentioned returning tomorrow. "You mean I'm going back?" she said. Ahhh, I guess we didn't go over that part.