Blessings and Backpacks.

The first day of kindergarten is a big deal in the United States, and at our new school especially. Most children go to preschool here, but usually it's only a half-day program a few days a week. When it's time for that five-year-old to finally go off to school all day, every day... as you can imagine, there is quite the emotional build-up. "My baby is going off to school" is the common sentiment. One which the likes of won't be seen again until that same baby goes off to college. Like I said, it's a big deal.

Since Miss B was already on her third year of kindergarten (maternelle) in Belgium, we just sort of rolled through all of the pomp and circumstance here. The Kinders didn't start on the same day as everyone else. On the second day, she went to an hour of orientation, which mostly seemed to be about the meeting for the parents. I think the school wanted to get us parents off to the right start. And even though I might have rolled my eyes, I really appreciated it because as a new family it sort of made me feel official, like we finally belonged here. After all, last year we just jumped into the middle of everything.

Miss B's first official day of school was the following day, the third day of school for everyone else. And when it finally came, we were saying "enough already, let's get this party started." To say we were ready is an understatement. (Miss B was more ready than anyone in our house for summer to be over and school to start.)

Finally, on that first day of school, the Kinders, most of them with proud happy faces, got into one of four lines. They waved at their parents and Miss B blew me kisses. All around me, other mothers struggled to hold back their tears. The three-year-old standing next to me cried loudly for her big sister, wanting to go too. "You have to wait your turn,"said her mother. "And I thought I would be the one crying today," she told me with a laugh.

The bell rang, and the big kids waited, patient. This was a special day. The first line of kindergartners started moving and everyone in the whole school started clapping. Like little rockstars, they marched through the door, waving to anyone who would wave back.

I wasn't expecting to be hit with emotion. Miss B had already been to school, everyone at our house was excited and grateful that she finally got to go to school as an American kid. But as Miss B's line began to move forward through the doors of our new school, I realized. I realized that she would never get to join Madame Christine's line of première primaire (first primary) kids marching into their first day of primary school at Saint-Joseph, like her brothers did before her. There would be no "blessing of the backpacks" this year. Miss B was never going to learn about the alpha letters, or go on a classe verte trip. And so many other things...

As I fought back the tears behind my sunglasses, I waved as my own kinder took her turn to proudly march through the door. Her empty Hello Kitty backpack bobbed up and down behind her...the tattered yellow "approved cabin baggage" ticket still attached.