Today was Giovanna’s first day of her second year of drop-off preschool. She has the same teacher and all of the same classmates, with the addition of two new kids. She calls them friends.
Will there be lots of friends at school, mama?
It was a soft start which means she went for just an hour and there were only two other children with her. When I picked her up, she loitered. She wasn’t ready to leave. On a normal week, she will go for three mornings. Not a lot, but enough.
Last night, I had a hard time sleeping so I retrieved my journal from inside my bedside table and I wrote in the dark. I recalled the irony that plagued my thoughts. I crave time to myself, time to write and work and think. I didn’t get much of this over the summer which made me grumpy. I have told everyone who asks that I cannot wait for school to start again. And yet I was irrevocably sad last night. I couldn’t bare the thought of my baby going back to school. She is a beacon of light in my days and I want to keep her under my wing forever.
I wrote these words that are barely legible and then I put away my pen and I fell asleep without further lament:
I know I will fill the hours with tasks and words as I always do. I might blog more. I might share more. I might get through all of my unfinished manuscripts. I might do more of what feeds my soul. I will do more of this. I will work hard and I will lay in bed each night knowing I made the most out of that day. I’m changing my habits, too. Less internet, more writing. Less procrastination, more living. Less research, more follow through. Less unpublished essays sitting stagnant in my folders, more queries. More small wins. I need to make every minute away from my baby count. This needs to be worth it.
I will miss her while she’s at school and I will be grateful for this time I have to be present with myself and my dreams. I know it will make me a happier person. And if I’m happier, she’s happier. (See photo above.) That’s what I’m after in the end.