First Day of School

Friday morning, I followed Jude and J.P. to West End United Methodist Church, so we could drop J.P. off for his first day of daycare.  We arrived a few minutes before 9 a.m. and his classroom wasn't open yet, so we milled about the church with a few other nervous parents and their toddlers.  After what seemed like an eternity, the lights in the classroom were turned on and Jude, J.P. and I walked in together.

J.P. followed us into the kitchen, as we placed his lunch in the refrigerator.  For some reason, it seemed strange to see his name, J.P. Newman, written in permanent magic marker on his food container.  I guess it was a sign that, for perhaps the first time, he had an identity of his own.  We walked back into the classroom and as Jude talked quietly to J.P., I signed him in.  I looked up and Jude was slipping out the door, so I followed her.

As we walked away, I took one last peak through a window next to the door.  J.P. was standing in the middle of the floor looking around, searching for us, bewildered that he couldn't find us.  My heart felt like it would break.  Outside, we reassured each other that it would be okay, said goodbye and drove to work.

A few minutes before 3 p.m., Jude called me at work to let me know she had picked J.P. up at daycare.  When she walked in to get him, expecting a gleeful reunion of sorts, she found him napping on his mat on the floor.  He was sleeping soundly, covered with his favorite blanket and clutching "Maurice Meow" in his hands.  "Was he excited to see you?"  I asked.  "Not really," she said, "he was just groggy.'  Oh, well.

Apparently, he cried for about 5 minutes after we left in the morning, then was fine.  He played in the classroom and in the gym and apparently had a good time.  He didn't eat a lot for lunch, but that's understandable, I think.  Overall, a pretty good first day of school.