Dear Kindergarten Teacher

Dear Kindergarten Teacher,

I have written this letter a hundred times in my head. An ever-evolving mental rough draft, anticipating every detail of a far-off, “someday” reality that now stares me square in the eyes.

Kindergarten.

Our firstborn.

I think I can. I think I can. I think I can.

Hello, my name is Mommy. It’s a pleasure to meet you.

Let me just start with — I really hope your summer was adventurous and relaxing and splendid. You sooooo deserve it. Your work is full and tireless, and you fully deserve to be less tired. I hope this summer gave you that… and more.

Welcome to a new school year.

At this point, you have likely glanced over your roster. Perhaps you have even begun to make brightly-colored name tags. Sweet names… belonging to sweet children… belonging to sweet parents… who have loved them sweetly for the past five years.

This is BIG for us.

You see, in under two weeks, a piece of my universe will walk through your classroom door. Wide-eyed. Timid. Her kitty cat backpack as big as her. Excited. Innocent. Impressionable.

And for six hours a day, for five days a week, for 180 days, for the first time ever — she will be yours. Do you understand the insurmountable trust in that?

In one of life’s most noteworthy baton exchanges — between a parent and a kindergarten teacher — I am faithfully passing my precious child to YOU.

YOU will be the one who wipes her tears when she gets a boo-boo. YOU will be the one who watches her imagination come alive. YOU will be the one who sings with her, reads with her, and giggles with her. (Please giggle with her.) YOU will be the one who witnesses her newest little friendships. YOU will be the one who answers her questions and guides her choices and ensures her safety and expands her knowledge and holds her hand and reminds her to be kind.

YOU.

You are the newest member of our village; a pivotal chapter in her story; the first domino knocking the next domino and the next and the next until the thirteenth domino ultimately falls and away she goes.

And YOU, Kindergarten Teacher, are so tremendously lucky.

Our girl is something special.

She has been illuminating rooms since a crinkly monster toy awakened her five-week-old smile. She has music in her bones, animals in her heart, “What are we doing today?” in her brain, a beloved kangaroo puppet in her arms, and a sweet sensitivity in her soul.

She is my pride and her daddy’s joy.

Just scan your classroom on August 13th… and you will see a sea of pride and joys.

Such a beautiful sight; such an important job. A job requiring the patience of a saint, the grit of a warrior, and the stamina of an entire colony of Energizer bunnies.

You’ve got this, Kindergarten Teacher!

I think you can. I think you can. I think you can.

I just ask one thing. When it’s time to tape down those brightly-colored name tags, please remember —

“It isn’t so much what’s on the table that matters, as what’s on the chairs.”

Love our babies somethin’ fierce… because we sure do.

Respectfully,
Kindergarten Mommy