In early September, my granddaughter Lydia started kindergarten. After almost five years of daycare at a small preschool, she entered into the public school system, got familiar with riding a school bus, and began the process of meeting new friends and teachers.
For five and three-quarter years, Lydia was the closely guarded secret of her parents, grandparents, family, preschool friends, and their social media connections.
Now, she’s a publican, the name given by us Catholic elementary school kids for those going to public schools.
And Lydia adjusted seamlessly, riding the bus with her down-the-street, playdate friend, Naima, and charming her teachers.
Her parents, my daughter Maureen, and son-in-law Jason, raised her right, giving her the responsibility and freedom she needed to take this next step in life.
Her grandparents, myself, Paula, Ike, and Rita, stood just enough out of the way, to let Lydia grow from infant to toddler to school-aged kiddo, even if our inclination to kibbitz seemed overpowering sometimes.
Lydia is now enrolled in dance, ballet, and baton twirling classes and continues to surprise us with her blossoming maturity.
In the meantime, the grandparents wonder where the time went, and hope that they’ll be around to smile, and, of course, gloat when Lydia takes on high school, college, and whatever path she chooses in life.
For five and three-quarter years, Lydia was the closely guarded secret of her parents, grandparents, family, preschool friends, and their social media connections.
Now, she’s a publican, the name given by us Catholic elementary school kids for those going to public schools.
And Lydia adjusted seamlessly, riding the bus with her down-the-street, playdate friend, Naima, and charming her teachers.
Her parents, my daughter Maureen, and son-in-law Jason, raised her right, giving her the responsibility and freedom she needed to take this next step in life.
Her grandparents, myself, Paula, Ike, and Rita, stood just enough out of the way, to let Lydia grow from infant to toddler to school-aged kiddo, even if our inclination to kibbitz seemed overpowering sometimes.
Lydia is now enrolled in dance, ballet, and baton twirling classes and continues to surprise us with her blossoming maturity.
In the meantime, the grandparents wonder where the time went, and hope that they’ll be around to smile, and, of course, gloat when Lydia takes on high school, college, and whatever path she chooses in life.