To My Child’s Teacher

As the days of summer slowly came to a close, I realized the day I had been dreading was upon me—the first day of kindergarten. It’s not that I have anything against school; I love school and I know my daughter will love it too. And while I know that school is the beginning of independence and a new adventure for my daughter, I also know it is an end. It is the end of carefree days with just my daughter and me. She will now have an entire life away from me. How will she get by without me? How will I get by without her? I feel sad and worried and excited all at once. I don’t know who her teacher will be but I do know there are so many things I need to tell her before she meets my daughter. I need to write it all down, everything this teacher will need to know about my sweet little girl.

Dear Kindergarten Teacher,

Hello. My daughter will be one of the many students in your class this year. I thought you might find it helpful if I jot down a few things about her. As you can see, I have laminated it for your convenience.

First thing you must know is that she is a very sensitive child. She cried for a week when we bought our new car because she felt so bad for the old car. She has over fifty stuffed animals, all of which were orphans until she adopted them. She calls them her brothers and sisters. She agonizes over which one to take outside to play because she wants to make sure they all get a turn.

She doesn’t know how to button her pants. She tries so hard but she still hasn’t got it. I blame myself; we should have worked on it this summer, but we just ran out of time. She won’t ask you for help with them, she gets too embarrassed, so maybe you could just give her pants a quick check every now and then, just to make sure she’s buttoned up.

She’s not a good eater, especially at lunch. I’m so worried that she’s going to be hungry. If it looks like her lunch is mostly Goldfish crackers, it’s because it is. She loves those things and I know she will eat them. But now I’m worried she won’t be able to get her lunch open by herself. Oh, why did I insist on helping her so much?

She likes to climb really high on the monkey bars. She thinks I just stand there watching and cheering, but I am actually spotting her, ready to catch her if she falls. It’s hard work, trying to look casual while I’m terrified she’s going to fall and break something important.

She loves books. Her favorite book is Dr. Seuss’ McElligot’s Pool, especially if you read it with a British accent. She actual loves anything read with a British accent.

She is a people-pleaser and a rule-follower. You never need to raise your voice with her, a stern look can reduce her to tears. And please help her to understand that even good kids get in a little trouble now and then.

She loves to laugh and learn and sing and play. She loves to dance and is excited to make new friends. She loves being outside and running, give her an open field, and she will run until she collapses.

She will idolize you from the moment she meets you. Please use this power for good. Please be patient. Please have a kind smile and a big heart. Please be a good storyteller and have a cheerful laugh.

But most of all, please be aware that you now spend more waking hours with my child than I do. You are shaping her and will have a profound effect on her life. Please be the person I can trust with such a monumental task.

Brandi Haas

Hi Readers! Thanks for stopping by and reading my story! I hope you and your children have a smooth transition as they start school! And remember: You’re going to have some free time on your hands with the kiddos back in school, so be sure to order my book to give yourself a good laugh each day! Tales from Suburbia: You Don’t Have to be Crazy to Live Here, But it Helps by Brandi Haas, available on Amazon (link is in the right column of this page) in print and ebook versions, on Barnes and Noble (link is in the right column of this page) as an ebook, and also available on Kobo Books.