No, I don’t mean the high school graduating class. I mean the preschool class. The youngest schoolers. The future holders. My daughter graduated Friday from Pre-K.
One whole school year has almost passed us by. I remember being so upset when I found out she’d have to enroll at the tender age of 3. She turned 4 just days before school began. I was worried about her. Terrified. I was going outside my comfort zone and allowing perfect strangers to be in charge of her for 3 hours a day, 5 days a week. My stomach was in knots.
She has completed the year with flying colors. Her last day is Friday. This week is just a fun-for-all. Pajama party on Monday, backwards day, mismatch day and so on. She is the only child in her entire class that has not had one disciplinary action all year. Not one. She won “most angelic” student. She learned to write her name, recognize her alphabet (capital and lower case), recognize her numbers 1-10, count to 30, speak Spanish, pray independently, and much more. Because of her interest in growing things we have planted and maintained an herb garden in our back yard.
She has grown a few inches too and she weighs almost 5 pounds more than when she started. She went from a 3T to a 4T to a whopping big girl 5T. She has had her first pedicure and stacked haircut. She learned about friendship and I know she’ll miss “Gabby”, her best friend all year.
I almost cried 4 times during her “graduation” ceremony.
My Brianna Lyn.
Big Kindergartner now. Big girl. Almost 5.
Beach themed graduation.
Sun visor says “Class of 2009”.