In the weeks leading up to the start of Kindergarten, I worried, I fretted, I questioned whether Ruthie would make it through the day without a nap. Without one she’d always slogged in the afternoon, and freaked out at bedtime from being over tired.
But after the first week of school it became clear: turns out all these years Ruthie wasn’t tired – she was an extrovert trapped in a family of introverts.
School freaking energizes her.
Despite a long day which starts with waking up at 6:30 every morning, she is ON FIRE when we pick her up at the bus at 3:30.
CAN WE GO TO THE PARK?
CAN WE GO TO THE CUPCAKE SHOP?
WHO’S COMING OVER?
CAN WE GO TO [INSERT FRIEND]’S HOUSE?
Whatever the request, if I say we’re going home to our boring house with nothing to do there is screaming, crying, and rending of garments – right there at the bus stop in the middle of my community’s main street.
So now at the point of my day in which I’m the sloggiest (made-up word), I need to make sure I’m rested and properly charged (read: have been alone) so we can go to the park, or the cupcake shop, or to a friend’s house. Which is fine. I can do it.
It’s just something I NEVER saw coming.