Today we took Yuki to the Megumi Preschool (the Japanese preschool/day-care she will be going to starting in May) for a trial run. We went for just an hour to see how she would do. She did very, very well. We got there right as the kids were coming in from playing outside. Several of them surrounded Yuki and, because none of them can really speak, they all just stood really close, staring. It was adorable. The Risu (Squirrel) Group leader, Koda-sensei is a perfect blend of camp counselor and grandmother. She is impossibly energetic and I was exhausted just watching her for an hour. I think Yuki will be in very good hands.
We actually left the room for 15 minutes and when we came back, Yuki was in a pile of cardboard bricks (shaking them, inspecting them, sorting them) with all of the other kids. She was upset when Mimi picked her up to leave.
Anyway, at one point as Yuki was scooching (she's half-way between crawling and walking -- crawlking?) around the room chasing the ball she had discovered, she seemed so alone and completely independent I was struck with the thought, "She belongs to the world." I imagine at some point every parent comes to the realization that your kid doesn't really "belong" to you and today was my moment. I was humbled and proud, simultaneously. But I didn't cry. Yet.
Just to balance everything out, though, it took us (meaning Mimi) almost 2 hours to get our little angel to bed tonight. Sigh.
We actually left the room for 15 minutes and when we came back, Yuki was in a pile of cardboard bricks (shaking them, inspecting them, sorting them) with all of the other kids. She was upset when Mimi picked her up to leave.
Anyway, at one point as Yuki was scooching (she's half-way between crawling and walking -- crawlking?) around the room chasing the ball she had discovered, she seemed so alone and completely independent I was struck with the thought, "She belongs to the world." I imagine at some point every parent comes to the realization that your kid doesn't really "belong" to you and today was my moment. I was humbled and proud, simultaneously. But I didn't cry. Yet.
Just to balance everything out, though, it took us (meaning Mimi) almost 2 hours to get our little angel to bed tonight. Sigh.
Comments
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts.
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.
Kahlil Gibran
Or when they pick their noses and show it to everyone around. or when they belch really loud in the public library or when they scream as you are carrying them out of church, "NO, PLEASE DON"T HIT ME..." or.....
gibs and judes