May 12th had been marked on our calendar for quite some time as Yuki’s first day of daycare at Megumi Preschool. When you step into the school, you feel like you have entered a preschool in Japan. The teacher, Koda-sensei, is an energetic grandmotherly teacher and there is a second teacher, Margaret-sensei, a young American woman who is totally fluent in Japanese. There are about 7 kids on any given day in this class and they all seem sweet. Yuki did well on the day in April when we took a tour and we came away feeling good about the place.
But once May 12th was on our calendar as her start date, Philip and I started to feel anxious. I had a knot in my stomach and we admitted to each other that we wanted that week to just come and go so we could be done with it. I have seen many parents cry on the first day of their child’s school and while I intellectually understood why they cried, I didn’t understand the overwhelming—and mixed—emotions that come with sending your child to daycare. And after all, she is only one (while most of the kids in her group are two). Ultimately, though, we knew that it would help me at work, it would help Yuki with her Japanese language, and it would provide her with great new challenges. So we kept busy until May 12th.
The weekend before, I went to the store to buy things for her school. For starters, I had to buy fine point sharpies so that I can put her name in everything she wears (including individual disposable diapers) and brings to school. I plan to order name tags now. Then I had to get her a special bag for her blanket, sheet, change of clothes, shoes for inside (very Japanese), diapers, and wipes. Then I had to get a large zip-lock bag and pack a “disaster kit.” There is a list of stuff (toilet paper, diapers, canned food, clothes, blanket, etc.) that goes into this bag and the bag goes into a shed outside. So first I had to go through Yuki’s clothes and pull things that I wouldn’t miss. Then I had to run this very bleak scenario in my head and pack appropriate clothes for her "disaster kit."
I checked my lists several times to make sure I had everything. I wrote a quick note to the teachers about things Yuki can and can’t do, including her randomness with naps and how she can’t quite fall asleep by herself just yet though we are working on it. This process of writing things down calmed my nerves and finally, we all went to bed with heavy hearts (well, not Yuki because she didn’t know what was about to happen, and not Trixie because she is a dawg).
Then May 12th came. Philip walked us out to the car and put Yuki in the car seat and he looked like he was going to cry. I drove her to the school with my stomach in a complete knot. We arrived with our mountain of supplies, signed in, found the cubby with Yuki’s name on it, put her bag in it, and gave the “headmaster” Mime-sensei the note I had written. She read it very thoroughly and nodded along the way and told me that it all sounded good. Then she told me that her class was having outside time. Kids Yuki’s age go out in a stroller, so I followed Mime-sensei out with Yuki in my arm. Then the door opened to the playground. All the teachers bowed good morning to us and welcomed Yuki. She looked puzzled—I lowered her into the stroller and all the kids came running up to her. I watched for a few seconds and felt my stomach unknot itself. "This is the right place," I thought. As the teacher pushed the stroller forward, I kissed Yuki goodbye and left while she was distracted by other kids. I did it! I had dropped her off. And I felt okay. In fact, a lot better now that that was over. I drove to work and hoped that Yuki would do all right.
The hours went by fairly quickly while I distracted myself with work. The teacher suggested Yuki do short days at first so I was left work early to get her at 3:00. As I approached the room, I heard crying. I peeked in and all the kids were seated around a table for snack, and there was Yuki, sobbing. Koda-sensei was seated next to her and was comforting her, but I could see that Yuki was just sobbing and sobbing. I approached her and sensei said, “Who is that Yuki? Who came to get you?” Then Yuki turned around and jumped into my chest.
I had never seen her so distressed and desperate for my hug before and it threw me. I thought the hardest part was over and I was wrong. I did not think she would be this big of a mess. I felt like crying. But I just held her and rubbed her little back and told her that she did a good job. Koda-sensei assured me that the first day is like this for everyone. Yuki calmed down quickly and we stayed and had snack with everyone. Sensei told me that despite Yuki’s crying, she ate every bit of lunch, which she thought was a good sign. But Yuki only slept for 30 minutes. I told her that I was glad to hear that she fell asleep at all and she said that Mime-sensei held her until she did so, which was nice to hear.
Things Yuki likes more than her first day at daycare:
1. Reading with Mom
As she sat in my lap and ate snack, I noticed a small red mark on her forehead and a sizable mark on the right side of her head. I asked what happened there, and sensei said that she was rubbing her head on her bed, which I have never seen her do before. I felt horrible that she was so freaked out and just sat there feeling helpless. I thanked them and we headed to the car and we drove home. Yuki was happy as could be by this time, but I was feeling worse and worse—about how scared Yuki was and those marks on her head. I started to feel like she was too young and perhaps she hit her head and they didn’t see because all the other kids are older and active and the teachers can’t watch everything.
I got home and Philip greeted us and Yuki went on playing like it was any other day. I told him everything but could not shake this bad feeling. I felt like I was on the verge of tears all night even after Philip told me time and time again that Yuki was just fine and it was just the first day. I was freaking out. So much so that in order to distract myself, I opened a Facebook account. And it did. Distract me, that is (note: if you are on Facebook, please be my friend).
2. Not actually helping do dishes
Then on Tuesday, I decided to call and talk to Mime-sensei. I went back and forth on this, but I felt that it would be good to talk to her. Now, as you know, I work with kids, which means I work with parents. I am often on the receiving end of a call like this—in fact, there is at least one, sometimes two people who hear from parents before me so by the time they get to me, they are pretty pissed and are definitely in the mode of “I want to talk to the person in charge,” which is so much fun. So now I was about to call the school AFTER MY DAUGHTER’S FIRST DAY! I practiced in my head so that I wouldn’t sound like “that insane mom.” I was nervous.
I got a hold of Mime sensei and asked if she had a moment to talk. She said, “Of course. Anything you have on your mind.”
I told her that I understood Yuki cried a lot but that I know that that will get better in time. But that what I was concerned about was that she came home with two marks on her head and the one on the side of her head seemed like something had hit her. I told her that this was not bothering Yuki in anyway, so I wasn’t worried about that, but at my work there is an incident report for any size of injury and I didn't get anything like that. So I have no idea how it happened and that worried me. As I’m saying this, I’m listening for her response, because I know how we (who deal with parents like ME) are supposed to respond.
3. Whatever this is.
She listened carefully and said that she was so sorry. She asked in detail what the mark looked like and assured me that she would speak to the teachers. She then told me that they do have accident forms and it was likely that the teachers didn’t see it happen and that is why I was not given a report. She said I must have been very stressed to see that and also told me that prior to Yuki’s first day, Koda-sensei expressed her concern about having a one-year old in the mix of older kids and they decided that Mime-sensei, who works as a floater would come in on the mornings that Yuki was there to give another set of eyes. I hadn’t known this. I told her that that was good to know and that I will probably keep her there until 3:00 for the time being and extend the hours once she got used to it—She said that was fine and I thanked her and we hang up. If she worked for me, I would have given her an A+. She listened, apologized, and told me of a concrete solution and calmed my nerves. Good teacher. I felt 100% better.
4. Playing the grahnd piahno.
Someone once said to me that mistakes happen but you can make a difference in the way you fix them. And this was exactly that.
So Yuki went back on Wednesday. Koda-sensei rushed over to me and apologized—and she explained to me that Yuki, in her fit of crying, was rubbing her head on a very coarse carpet and regardless of being picked up and moved to a softer area, she would crawl back to the carpet to rub her head on it. So this was a rug burn, which made total sense. She assured me that it was not caused by another child. I told her that we can’t totally avoid that because, well, this is a school and stuff just happens sometimes. I just need to know how it happens. I dropped Yuki off and walked away and this time, I felt good.
5. Confusing the dog.
When I went to get her, she was crying—but surrounded by her classmates who seemed very concerned. It was as if some new species was dropped onto their planet and they didn't know what to make of it. It was kind of hilarious. But when I held her, her face turned into a huge smile and she was reaching out to other kids and laughed with the senseis, which told me that she actually likes it there. Koda-sensei told me that she slept for two hours (!!) and that was pretty impressive for a second day.
6. Dance rehearsal.
Friday, I got there to pick her up and she was not crying. I sat next to her and though she had tears, she was no longer weeping. She did not jump on me, but smiled big, and she ate her snack. Do you see a pattern? She, even in the midst of despair, doesn't forget to eat. That’s my kid. She must know somehow that these meals are paid for. Koda-sensei told me that she again slept for two hours and the quality of her cry has changed drastically from Monday. She is on her way. Maybe next week she will crack a smile without me being there.
7. Mirror baby.
So we survived the dreaded week. I’m glad that’s over. I have always said that my parents were brave to let me go, at age 15, to another country. Having gone through this week, I don’t quite know how they managed to do that. I now know that this is a kind of courage only parents can have and know. Day care or foreign country, it is harder than anything to let your child go into a place where you can’t control things. But we have to. Otherwise they will live in your basement until they are 45 and who wants that?
But once May 12th was on our calendar as her start date, Philip and I started to feel anxious. I had a knot in my stomach and we admitted to each other that we wanted that week to just come and go so we could be done with it. I have seen many parents cry on the first day of their child’s school and while I intellectually understood why they cried, I didn’t understand the overwhelming—and mixed—emotions that come with sending your child to daycare. And after all, she is only one (while most of the kids in her group are two). Ultimately, though, we knew that it would help me at work, it would help Yuki with her Japanese language, and it would provide her with great new challenges. So we kept busy until May 12th.
The weekend before, I went to the store to buy things for her school. For starters, I had to buy fine point sharpies so that I can put her name in everything she wears (including individual disposable diapers) and brings to school. I plan to order name tags now. Then I had to get her a special bag for her blanket, sheet, change of clothes, shoes for inside (very Japanese), diapers, and wipes. Then I had to get a large zip-lock bag and pack a “disaster kit.” There is a list of stuff (toilet paper, diapers, canned food, clothes, blanket, etc.) that goes into this bag and the bag goes into a shed outside. So first I had to go through Yuki’s clothes and pull things that I wouldn’t miss. Then I had to run this very bleak scenario in my head and pack appropriate clothes for her "disaster kit."
I checked my lists several times to make sure I had everything. I wrote a quick note to the teachers about things Yuki can and can’t do, including her randomness with naps and how she can’t quite fall asleep by herself just yet though we are working on it. This process of writing things down calmed my nerves and finally, we all went to bed with heavy hearts (well, not Yuki because she didn’t know what was about to happen, and not Trixie because she is a dawg).
Then May 12th came. Philip walked us out to the car and put Yuki in the car seat and he looked like he was going to cry. I drove her to the school with my stomach in a complete knot. We arrived with our mountain of supplies, signed in, found the cubby with Yuki’s name on it, put her bag in it, and gave the “headmaster” Mime-sensei the note I had written. She read it very thoroughly and nodded along the way and told me that it all sounded good. Then she told me that her class was having outside time. Kids Yuki’s age go out in a stroller, so I followed Mime-sensei out with Yuki in my arm. Then the door opened to the playground. All the teachers bowed good morning to us and welcomed Yuki. She looked puzzled—I lowered her into the stroller and all the kids came running up to her. I watched for a few seconds and felt my stomach unknot itself. "This is the right place," I thought. As the teacher pushed the stroller forward, I kissed Yuki goodbye and left while she was distracted by other kids. I did it! I had dropped her off. And I felt okay. In fact, a lot better now that that was over. I drove to work and hoped that Yuki would do all right.
The hours went by fairly quickly while I distracted myself with work. The teacher suggested Yuki do short days at first so I was left work early to get her at 3:00. As I approached the room, I heard crying. I peeked in and all the kids were seated around a table for snack, and there was Yuki, sobbing. Koda-sensei was seated next to her and was comforting her, but I could see that Yuki was just sobbing and sobbing. I approached her and sensei said, “Who is that Yuki? Who came to get you?” Then Yuki turned around and jumped into my chest.
I had never seen her so distressed and desperate for my hug before and it threw me. I thought the hardest part was over and I was wrong. I did not think she would be this big of a mess. I felt like crying. But I just held her and rubbed her little back and told her that she did a good job. Koda-sensei assured me that the first day is like this for everyone. Yuki calmed down quickly and we stayed and had snack with everyone. Sensei told me that despite Yuki’s crying, she ate every bit of lunch, which she thought was a good sign. But Yuki only slept for 30 minutes. I told her that I was glad to hear that she fell asleep at all and she said that Mime-sensei held her until she did so, which was nice to hear.
Things Yuki likes more than her first day at daycare:1. Reading with Mom
I got home and Philip greeted us and Yuki went on playing like it was any other day. I told him everything but could not shake this bad feeling. I felt like I was on the verge of tears all night even after Philip told me time and time again that Yuki was just fine and it was just the first day. I was freaking out. So much so that in order to distract myself, I opened a Facebook account. And it did. Distract me, that is (note: if you are on Facebook, please be my friend).
2. Not actually helping do dishesThen on Tuesday, I decided to call and talk to Mime-sensei. I went back and forth on this, but I felt that it would be good to talk to her. Now, as you know, I work with kids, which means I work with parents. I am often on the receiving end of a call like this—in fact, there is at least one, sometimes two people who hear from parents before me so by the time they get to me, they are pretty pissed and are definitely in the mode of “I want to talk to the person in charge,” which is so much fun. So now I was about to call the school AFTER MY DAUGHTER’S FIRST DAY! I practiced in my head so that I wouldn’t sound like “that insane mom.” I was nervous.
I got a hold of Mime sensei and asked if she had a moment to talk. She said, “Of course. Anything you have on your mind.”
I told her that I understood Yuki cried a lot but that I know that that will get better in time. But that what I was concerned about was that she came home with two marks on her head and the one on the side of her head seemed like something had hit her. I told her that this was not bothering Yuki in anyway, so I wasn’t worried about that, but at my work there is an incident report for any size of injury and I didn't get anything like that. So I have no idea how it happened and that worried me. As I’m saying this, I’m listening for her response, because I know how we (who deal with parents like ME) are supposed to respond.
3. Whatever this is.
4. Playing the grahnd piahno.So Yuki went back on Wednesday. Koda-sensei rushed over to me and apologized—and she explained to me that Yuki, in her fit of crying, was rubbing her head on a very coarse carpet and regardless of being picked up and moved to a softer area, she would crawl back to the carpet to rub her head on it. So this was a rug burn, which made total sense. She assured me that it was not caused by another child. I told her that we can’t totally avoid that because, well, this is a school and stuff just happens sometimes. I just need to know how it happens. I dropped Yuki off and walked away and this time, I felt good.
5. Confusing the dog.
6. Dance rehearsal.
7. Mirror baby.*fancy white-dress photos by Unofficial Yuki Event Photographer, Erika Sheehan.
See more of her stuff here.
See more of her stuff here.
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