She's Number One

When I went to pick up L today from her LAST DAY of school, I could see from across the parking lot that she wasn't a happy camper. Like me, our emotions are broadcast all over our face. As soon as I reached her, the tears started flowing. She was so upset she couldn't even talk. I thought for sure she had some sort of tiff with her on again/off again "bestest friend ever". I was expecting some sordid tale of betrayal on the playground. Once she caught her breath, I found out she was upset that it was her last day with her teacher. She forgot to give her a hug. So I took her, precious tears and all, to find her teacher and give her one last wonderful hug to last all summer long. Her teacher reminded her that she'd see her next year...that she'd be looking for her. That seemed to satisfy L (at least until I put her to bed tonight and the tears started all over again--would it be weird if I requested a sleepover at her teacher's house? Yeah. That'd be weird.).

I just thought that was incredibly sweet. Here I am babbling about how I'm counting the seconds down until summer vacation and my girl is probably counting the seconds down until school starts again...already. I don't think I did that in first grade. I think I was well aware of what was waiting for me once that last bell rang on the last day of school. But L's always loved school. Her teachers have been very important to her, as I hoped they would be. I've told her teachers that I'm sure L respects them more than she respects me. As much as I complain about that (and use it in my Momma Lectures--"Would you do that at school?"), I think that's kind of okay too. I mean, one of my main goals is to prepare my girls for the outside world. For authority. To respect and care for others. Somehow in the mix, my girl's grown the big ol' sensitive heart. Momma loves that too.

Two months ago, L was already planning what she was going to give her teacher on the last day. She wanted me to take her to Ceramic Cafe to paint a mug for her. She found an old gift bag I had stashed somewhere and decorated it. She sat down and wrote three heartfelt notes to her teacher and sealed them in envelopes with kitty stickers and kisses. We finally, finally and very much to the relief of L went and painted her mug. "#1 Teacher" it said. She concentrated very hard on the perfect colors, the perfect paint brush and took her time painting it just right. She was very serious about it. I think that when she handed it over, her teacher knew how much went into that little mug. I look at my daughter, see that love for her teacher and know how much her teacher gave my girl too.