I really can't believe that my little girl started kindergarten this week. I'll spare you the details, but I've felt anxious and uncertain. There are parts of me that cheered her on as she opened this door, and other parts of me that wanted to slam it shut, grab her hand, and run. I did leave the first day crying. It seems like such a huge chunk of the day, five days a week, not to be in her life. She, on the other hand, is handling it all with her usual enthusiasm.
This girl has never napped at a program so I made her a quilt for naptime. I know, I know. Many would say that's over the top, but for me it was not. It was a part of the right of passage. She and I selected fabrics from my stash, many of them are ones that I have had in waiting since she was a baby. A couple more were added by her when she went to the fabric store on a special outing with my mom. I cut up old clothes of hers and some of mine. I loved creating it over time and anticipating her transition. When I quilted all of those patched pieces I felt as if I had sewn a part of my heart into the quilt so that I could wrap her in love, protecting her even when I am not with her. Yes, I know, such tendancies in this day and age are way too over the top, but it is who I am. And really, it is how she knows me. She derives comfort, I think, from knowing me in this way. So of course, her mom would make her a naptime quilt for kindergarten because that is how our family is; quilts are a part of our solar system. It is all that she has known since she was born.