She lonely

Last Monday morning bright and early, our 2 year old headed off for her coveted dream - "her own school". We all took her on the first day but since then she hops on the streetcar with Dad and gets picked up by me at 11.30. Monday to Friday. It really changes the pace of mornings, and I have no idea how 11.15 comes around so fast.


Her very own backpack ("Wow, I have Sebby's back-pack", she said. Long may the enthousiasm for hand-me-downs continue).

Big bro shows her the way

Clearly she is enjoying herself at La Farandole; she often mentions her classmate Charlotte; she is speaking little phrases of French; she is ever so pleased with the fact that she has had no pee-pee accidents at pre-school; she likes to sit on the mini-sofa at circle time, and she loves, loves, loves to wear her hand-me-down backpack.

Sophie often mixes up "alone" with "lonely". Any person contemplating solitude or having a rest by him/herself is "lonely", according to our gregarious daughter. What will she make of her mama being home alone all morning long? In fact, she often checks to make sure that I will be ok by myself. Today, she told me to call the nursery school if I was lonely and then she would come home.

I have to admit that the only time in past 10 days that I have had a pang of nostalgia at one phase in our life being over was when the recycling truck rolled by last Wednesday morning. Nobody was there to greet it, to press his/her nose to the window, to scamper to the top floor to get the best look, to dig out "I Stink" and ask for it to be read. It was just me standing at the window and being a teeny bit lonely.

Out and about in Toronto wearing her new shoes