Comparative dissonance

Every morning, Dash runs into school with a big smile on his face. Every afternoon he runs out to sneak up and Boo! me with another big grin. When I ask how his day was, he says, "Great!"

(Well, there was one day when he said "Fine." But then he followed it up with, "No, I'm only joking, it was great.")

This really is the best thing in the world. It makes up for all the dawdling and nonsense getting out the door in the first place; it (almost) negates the stress and hassle and nagging of homework. He loves school, he loves his teacher, he's happy to be there every day. I am totally delighted and hope it lasts forever - even though that's not likely.

Mabel, on the other hand, has cried and wailed her way into the classroom every day so far this week. On Monday I took pity on her and gave her a pass, as we were only back from Ireland and she'd been awake since 3.30 (and up since an hour later). So I took her home with me, on condition that she would go to school on Tuesday. 

Predictably, on Tuesday she was just the same, but my heart was hardened towards her and besides, I had to go to the dentist. I left her in the capable hands of Miss B and she was perfectly happy at going-home time. Since then I've learned to ignore the collywobbles that only come on once she's sitting in the car and remembers where we're going. She's fine, and the return to a little routine is good for all of us.

Still, when it comes to elementary school, I hope she's as happy every morning as her brother. I hate hardening my heart.