Yesterday I really felt the passing of time, like sand slipping through my fingers, unstoppable. You probably think it is because I am turning *beep* in a couple of weeks. Or because every muscle in my body is killing me after running that extra mile yesterday morning. But that is not it, although come to think of it I feel even older now. That darn sand is slipping way too quickly!
The reason is simple. Yesterday my first child started school. Her career really began when she was barely one and after years of daycare, kindergarden, preschool, summer school - you name it, she went - she is quite the little trooper. But yesterday was the big day, first grade.
I had packed some Kleenex into my bag along with my camera because I have become more weepy than a weeping willow these days but ended up not using it. That however does not mean it was not an emotional day: it actually turned out to be more so than I expected, at a much deeper level. It made me re-examine my life, where I am, where I am coming from and where I am headed. It made me realize that although I feel like a girl at heart, younger generations perceive me as a lady.
Lady, you have a child in school.
I tried not to think about it too much over the summer and only really focused a little last week when I went to buy a backpack and pencil box. By Sunday I was feeling a little nervous and doing my best to hide it, going on and on to my daughter about how big she is, how she will soon be reading and writing, what an exciting time she had ahead of her. When I tucked her in I told her it was ok to feel a little scared, that each and every child would be nervous the next morning. I also told her to remember that to them she was a scary stranger just like they were to her and she giggled and said "Mommy, that's impossible, I am a very sweet girl!". She had been pretty nonchalant about the whole thing for weeks and I wondered how much she was acting excited for our sake and how much she really understood what was happening. I mean, until you've been to school you really don't know what you are getting yourself into, right?
Lady, you have a child in school.
I tried not to think about it too much over the summer and only really focused a little last week when I went to buy a backpack and pencil box. By Sunday I was feeling a little nervous and doing my best to hide it, going on and on to my daughter about how big she is, how she will soon be reading and writing, what an exciting time she had ahead of her. When I tucked her in I told her it was ok to feel a little scared, that each and every child would be nervous the next morning. I also told her to remember that to them she was a scary stranger just like they were to her and she giggled and said "Mommy, that's impossible, I am a very sweet girl!". She had been pretty nonchalant about the whole thing for weeks and I wondered how much she was acting excited for our sake and how much she really understood what was happening. I mean, until you've been to school you really don't know what you are getting yourself into, right?
So yesterday she woke up, we took some pictures and set off.
That is when the throbbing began, deep inside my chest. All I could see when I looked at her was a huge, bouncing backpack and little blonde locks sticking out from the top. She was excited and her excitement grew as she found her old friends from last year and they assembled in a squealing group hug. All nervousness was forgotten on her side and I barely saw her for the next 10 minutes. Then a teacher came out and told us to assemble in the courtyard to form the classes. I felt butterflies in my stomach and a cold, little hand slip into mine. In a second I experienced all her anxiety, fear and expectation, I could almost feel her heart thumping in her little ribcage, like a frightened little bird's. I just wanted to protect her, to fold her into my arms and hold her tight. But when it was her turn, she walked right over to her new teachers and classmates without glancing back and up the big stairway they went. By the time us parents followed and reached her classroom she was sitting in the front row with a girl she didn't know instead of choosing an old friend. That's my girl. When we left she was smiling and whispering and comparing pencil cases and I knew she would be fine.
When I picked her up a few hours later I took her out for a special lunch, just the two of us and we both enjoyed the luxury of a week day together. By the evening we were all tired, emotionally drained and in need of a comforting meal. Comfort food in our repertoire is usually hearty food - not really fitting for the last throes of summer. Until now.
Here is a recipe for a summer meatloaf made with pantry staples from a friend and colleague, something most kids will enjoy too. My son had two huge slices, but then again I did watch him down 4 hotdogs (minus the buns) at a BBQ this summer. It is simple but took a little more effort/time than I had imagined to assemble. The thing I hadn't taken into account was the cooling process, which takes longer than you would expect. So give yourself plenty of time to make it. It is a great meal to prepare a day ahead, to bring as a potluck or picnic dish or as an office meal and it gets better as the days pass.
When it has cooled completely, slice and drizzle with some olive oil, a little lemon juice and lots of freshly ground black pepper. I was in a rush and we like grainy texture in our home so I kept it quite rustic, but you can easily process the ingredients to get a smoother texture. There are endless variations: you could add in some mustard or throw in some green beans (keeping them whole) for a Niçoise effect. Let me know what you did with yours.
