graduation

Alice's daycare invited me to their "graduation" celebration last week. She is not even really "graduating" to kindergarten until next year, but the daycare were also celebrating the movement of the "sophomores" to the next year up. I kid you not.

So I arrive at the celebration, all sarcasm and rolling eyes. Right. This is what the world needs. Another reason to eat copious amounts of cake and buy expensive photo packages. And as if these 3 and 4 year olds can really understand the pomp and circumstance of the whole event.

The parents were ushered into the gym, where a large banner reading "CONGRATS GRADS" was hanging over the stage. I think I had the same banner at my high school graduation. I could not believe the hoopla over (what I thought) was such a minor event. These are THREE year olds, people. I searched the crowd until I found the other parents who obviously agreed with my jaded view of the whole event - we shared some smirks. The lights dimmed and the slide show began, to the tune of the perfectly awful "That's What Friends Are For." I tried to control my giggles at how very very ridiculous it all was, how very over the top. And then, by the time we reached the 2nd verse of that awful song, it happened...I got sucked into the whole thing. The pictures on the screen showed my daughter a year ago, all baby-like with her toothy grins and chubby hands. I found myself reaching for the conveniently-placed kleenex at the end of every row, trying unsuccessfully to cover up big heaving sobs. Good god I was an embarrassment to myself. It was just that there she was - all big girl and no more baby. And there she was - playing a game with kids I don't know. There she was, having an experience totally outside of anything I know about her, creating her own memories away from me.

So I let myself get into it. You know, rituals can be good. And a year of Alice's life, at this point, is a huge huge deal for her. While I can do without the gowns and hats and photo shoots, it made her feel very special about the year she just had. She felt celebrated and cherished. And that's enough for me.

So, with that, I present to you: my sophomore of 2006!