They say, oh my god, I see the way you shine – Take your hand, my dear, and place them both in mine † You know you stopped me dead while I was passing by – And now I beg to see you dance just one more time. From my daughter's room comes the music of Dance Monkey. This song is sung along, quite cleanly, by my daughter. She does her homework. In her attic room. A junk room. This is how the transition from primary school to first year goes.
My girl started high school this school year. A whole step. I think then. My daughter doesn't find it that exciting. She said. I also seriously think I found it much more exciting than her. Full of good courage she took her bicycle on the first day of school, all school supplies have been bought of course and books have been covered. She has to go a little further now. Fortunately, she doesn't have to be alone. She and a friend from primary school are heading for the transition to first grade.
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Day 1 was “nice. As far as school can be fun then hey!" She also didn't let go much in the evening when we packed her suitcase. Because day 2 she went straight to camp. Four days, three nights. Without me. Without phone. At school camp with all new schoolmates.
She didn't mind. I all the more. She just felt like it. Makes a lot of sense. Even though I found it very exciting, I did not share my concerns with her. “This camp is going to be super fun, honey. Enjoy!” Those were my strong, wise words. Angels she did. plenty. But yeah, I didn't know that yet. There was no contact at all. Sure, deep in my heart I knew that:that daughter of mine must have the highest word and the greatest fun!
Unlike the final camp of group 8, where an update was regularly posted in the group app, it now remained silent. I had a hard time with it. “Would she have a connection? Is she feeling well? Of course she's connected and if she gets really sick, they'll definitely call me." These wise words and a glass of Sauvignon reassured me a little. When I got a photo card sent home on Thursday (ahaaaa, that's what that stamp was for that she had to take with her…) from the camp I was overjoyed. She was glowing in this class photo.
After four very long days, she finally came home. Tired, satisfied and completely hoarse. My daughter enjoyed it. Enormous! No homesickness, no hassle, but lots of fun!
Over the next few weeks, my girl really amazed me. At primary school, the little learning work she received there was hardly a priority, but after the transition to first grade she started working seriously. Homework was done immediately after school and tests were taught. That's what I gave her as a tip. “Make your homework right away sweetie, then you can chill out afterwards.” She danced through the first weeks full of good courage and with beautiful results.
New friendships were made. And outings were planned with the new friends. To Halloween Night in Toverland, shopping in the city and a bite to eat at McDonalds. I find it quite difficult. I know her friends from primary school through and through, her new friends from seventh grade not yet, quite a transition. Fortunately, her old friends still come over and I see more and more new friends coming by.
My girl fully enjoys the freedom she has acquired in the grown-up world. And I? I see her grow. And enjoy. Especially enjoy. She pleasantly surprised me with the transition from primary to seventh grade and gained my trust. Some arrangements have been made with her. About norms and values. About behavior and consequences. She knows exactly what's going on. She also talks a lot. Not everything. That is not necessary. But when something bothers her, or she has questions, she comes to me. Hopefully she will always do this.
When the first test week in seventh grade approached, the primal mother in me came out. I wanted nothing more than to take care of my girl. “Are you getting it planned, honey? 'Do I need to help you? You must learn well. Shall I make your favorite soup, or fruit feast? Or do you want me to test you?”
“Mom, don't act like that. I only have to go to school for two or three hours a day. I have time enough. That really works. And I'll grab some when I'm hungry.” Okay! There I stood with my fresh soup and good intentions. She needs me less and less now that she's in seventh grade. That takes some getting used to.
My girl passed her first week of testing without help. Her average, which was quite high, dropped a bit. But hey, she did a great job. She has achieved an excellent result in her first period.
The enthusiasm she had at the beginning of the seventh grade has diminished somewhat. However, the results are still very neat. She pushes boundaries more often, but fortunately does not cross them (yet). Also, there is still no grumbling when getting up. Not even now that the days are shorter and the weather worse. She cycles with her classmates through wind and weather.
The steps she has made since the transition from primary to seventh grade are great. But she stood tall. And I too have made strides. They call it letting go! Not wanting to know everything and not interfering with everything. In the meantime I am no longer on magister every day! Do you recognize that? Just checking whether the grade of the last test is already known, or whether she has not forgotten her geography books. I don't do it anymore. Even now that the first is insufficient. She'll do it herself. She is tough and honest. And I'm proud. Very proud!
When I open her attic door, after knocking neatly, the music continues. I walk in singing.
“Ooh I see you, see you, see you every time † And, oh my, I, I, I like your style † You, you make me, make me, make me wanna cry † And now I beg to see you dance just one more time”
I expect, as always, comments on my singing skills. But nothing is less true. She takes the pile of laundry I have in my hands, gives me a kiss and asks:"Mom, will you make soup for me?"
Sure honey.
