Today started with gentle, forlorn weeping.  The kind so sweet and genuine, it took all that I had not to pick her up and carry her home in my arms.  But, alas, that isn’t parenting.  That’s what we call “grandparenting”.  So I did what all wise parents do: I bribed her.  I told her if she could pull it together and give the day her best efforts, I would meet her at the end of the day with the Barbie Bicycle basket and shiny handlebar tassels she had requested last weekend.  I threw in a Barbie Bicycle Water Bottle, just to let her know I was serious.  I wish I could have taken a picture of the steely expression in her eyes as she pulled on every shred of bravery she had to stop crying.

I peeked in a few minutes later to see her staring out at her playing classmates.  Her feet were clearly in concrete, her mind in a blank, frozen state of fear.  It was then that I had to pull on every ounce of my strength to leave the school and let her have at it.

When I got home I looked at this picture.  Here is Kelly, gleefully hugging a wolf.  And there is no part of me that thinks she believed it was a fake wolf.  Kelly is pretty ticked off that I told her Unicorns are extinct, and she is certain I am wrong.  She spends most of her outdoor time building shelters for fairies.  She is determined to grow up and be a Rainbow Fairy, whatever that may be.  So I’m positive that she thought this creature was a real wolf.  SURELY this level of bravery can pull her through ONE DAY OF PRE-K without drama.

When I picked her up, she was laughing and smiling, and told me “I love-ded my school!  I love-ded my teachers!  I love-ded my class!”  At dinner, she couldn’t pick just one favorite part of the day; the whole day rocked.  With Kelly, this usually signals the end of a crisis; she is pretty straight-forward.  With Sara, that fake bravado would have been an elaborate concoction, simply meant to throw us off  her scent.  By morning, she would be gone, leaving us only a note, indicating she had defected to Canada, where she plans on being home schooled by a flock of geese.

After dinner, Kelly told me she is renaming her favorite Giraffe, “Charles”, and he is lost.  She is helping him find his way.  Now the psychologists can chime in…the GIRAFFE is lost, not Kelly.  Kelly?  I think she might be found.  Oh how we’ve missed you this past week, my Boo Boo Chicken.  And congrats on that tricked out bike of yours.  Sweet!