Kindergarten Blues

Yesterday evening Peter and I enjoy a quiet evening with Frasier – the one with the bar mitzvah. As fun as it was when Frasier mistakes Klingon for Hebrew it suddenly hits me that my life is about to change forever. My oldest daughter Maja will leave me tomorrow. She is taking her first step in to her own world. She is starting Kindergarten. The good old days of lazy play are over… now it is only a matter of time until she lives far away and we see each other only a few times a year. Did I mention that she is three?? Why this melancholy? Is it because she is asleep although it is only 9 pm? Or is it because she dresses herself? No, that last thing I love. When she left this sunny morning she had a wonderful outfit on. The red and white checked pants, which was my choice and I argued: it is summer fluff and easy to take on and off. She took it. The rest, the striped long sleeved t-shirt, Joshua’s knitted cardigan (too small for her but a golden moment of memory for me of us giggling together when I close the small white buttons and told her to hold her tummy in. The cardigan stopped right above her belly button and leaves a curtain of red t-shirt hanging.) her winter hat and Pippi Longstocking shoes. Socks are soo overrated.
She has never been away for me more than three hours. In her life. Never. And I remember when. When she was about one year old, Peter and I went to IKEA to buy bookshelves and she stayed at home with grandma and grandpa. When Joshua was born she was out with Peter and Oma for a loooong time when I was trying to breastfeed and sleep. Even if it was a bliss to be alone with Joshua and to relax I still missed her and thought she had grown when she came rushing in with glowing cold cheeks to tell me all about the sling and the climbing she had done.
We got three good years my little darling and now I am very jealous of the people that are allowed to spend time with you and who will tell you all kinds of stuff of the world that might or might not be true. They could be angry with her. (Only I am allowed to be angry with her…) Or comfort her when she is sad. (Nobody can do it as well as I.) And I hardly know them. Do they see her properly? Not only the fact that she loves to hide her head in plastic bags or has a clinical need to put strings around her neck. Not to say anything about the small objects that she keeps in her mouth. But do they see her? That she is really sensitive and that she gets scared when people laugh at her (or with her for that matter) or when people (mostly men actually) get to close too quickly. She wants to be included but wont take anything. She has her own will and own opinions. Will she fit in? Will she be accepted but also: will she accept them?
What was in her pink bag this morning? By me a pair of underpants and blue trousers for the event of an accident. She took a wooden bed from the playhouse, a velvet silk scarves, a wooden box with a red rose on it, a little pillow, a little red blanket and MiniMe. She wanted the Winnie the Pooh ball but it would not fit into the bag. She allowed her brother to play with it until she comes home.
Off they went, Peter and Maja, on the bike. She in her yellow helmet with pigs and dogs on it (I don’t know what pigs and dogs do together but they are dancing on her helmet) and the early summer sun shining on her lovely face.
Bye my little darling, go out and face the world. Take risks, play and have fun. And then you come home again.

The blonde mother