Franny's First Day of School

Yesterday we all woke up early to get ready for the first day of school. You should be warned right now that this is not a post about another fun tourist adventure in London; this is the post of a mother who was a nervous wreck all day about her baby starting at a new school in a new country, and not knowing a soul. I wanted to write about my feelings yesterday, but I honestly couldn't focus enough to do so. I was more nervous than when Franny started kindergarten, because she had so many friends going in to that class and she was so familiar with the school routine, having watched her sister there for years.

We managed to get the school uniform and supplies, and she had Steven's help to do up her school tie; her lunch was made and water bottle packed, Franny was ready to go. And she was smiling! She was completely excited about the whole thing, couldn't wait to get there! Of course, I did my best brave mommy act and didn't let on about how nervous I was; but later Steven and Greta complained that I was in a cranky mood all day.

It's about a 10-minute walk from our house to school, but we left twenty minutes to be on the safe side. When we got to the very busy office, we spoke with the very friendly staff (I swear, the ladies who work in elementary school offices are saints- so patient and kind), and we were informed that there had been "a bit of a mix up," as they didn't have the paperwork from Merton Borough saying that Franny was placed at Links. The nice office lady must have seen my panic stricken expression, because she quickly added, "Oh, but that's okay, we do have a spot for her and knew she was coming from your email, so we'll get it all sorted in no time." Thankfully, I had brought the letter we received stating that Francesca was accepted to Links, so I handed that over and we were given a tour of the school.

Fifth grade in England is known as Year 6, and at Links, the older classes have the top floor of the homey old brick building that houses the school. Franny's teacher is Mr. McClleland, who seems very nice and welcoming. Franny was introduced to the class, and we were escorted back down to the office...that was it, and she never looked back. So all day I thought about her and wondered how it was all going. She said the night before, "If I can't find anyone to sit with at lunch, I'll look for someone else who is all alone and I ask if I can join her." She also decided that she would bring a book to read, in case she had no one to play with. These comments made me both incredibly proud of her resourcefulness, and full of heart ache for my ever-social little girl.

Cut to 3:10pm, when the students are released for the day: Franny came out the door still wearing her big bright smile and I nearly jumped for joy at the sight of her. We walked home while she told me all about her day: she made three new girlfriends and they all sat together at lunch (having requested "a table for four, please" in the cafeteria), one of these girls gave her a biscuit, Mr. McClelland is really nice and a really good teacher, there's another new kid in the class and he only speaks Polish (not a word of English, but other Polish children help translate for him), there are kids from all over but no other Americans, they are already talking about the field trips to the London Zoo and to France, as well as the big test they will prepare for this year. She was full of news about the day and so happy about all of it, it was an incredible relief.

As I pondered all of the things that Franny might face at the new school, and as I continue to sort through the maze of bureaucracy that constitutes the school system for getting Greta her school placement, I thought a lot about our decision to move here this year. It was one thing to try something new and different when it was just the two of us, as Steven and I did in moving to Seattle many moons ago. As an adult, you do your best and figure that if it doesn't work out, you can always move on to something different. And while that still holds true with our move to London, it is a much greater responsibility when you are transplanting your two young daughters as well. They were willing and excited to embark on this adventure, and I think that it will stand them well their whole lives. They are learning that there are so many different kinds of people in the world, and that we can make changes in our own lives and take risks when we feel ready, not to mention the emphasis on family that we have created by being such a solid unit throughout this journey. I am so proud of the young women that they are becoming, and I am doing my best not to be a nervous ninny about their growing independence. Now if we can just get Greta settled into her new high school, I will thank my lucky stars yet again.