I cried.

Not in front of Joey, of course. But after. In the hallway. It started out with just watery eyes. My neighbor who was dropping off her daughter, also a transfer student, had those eyes, too. We both managed to keep them from falling while we walked back to our cars and talked about how hard it was to walk out that door this morning leaving our nervous, anxious children behind.

Then I got into my car. And cried. Sobbed. I could feel my daughter's anxiety reaching out to me through the walls. It was palpable. And I couldn't help her. I had to leave her there. All by herself. After five minutes or so, I pulled myself together and called my friend DeLyn.

Tell me it will be ok, I begged. It *will* be ok, she said. Talk me down. Remind me how this all works. She talked to me and calmed me down and invited me to a consolatory lunch. She, of course, was celebrating, her children being older and driving her nuts these last few days.

I drove home and decided to start on the laundry that had been neglected for a week or so. I sat down in the closet to sort the pile of dirty clothes and started to cry again. It was pitiful. Crying in the middle of the dirty clothes. Blowing my nose and dabbing my eyes with dirty T-shirts.

Finally I pulled myself together. I still had knots in my stomach but I was able to stop crying.

I went to lunch with DeLyn and we talked more. I relaxed some but not entirely. I couldn't wait to go pick Joey up from school, though.

At the appointed hour, I got to the school but the fire alarm was ringing and children were walking out the school. It was a false alarm, though, and the children were shuttled back in quickly. When at last we were reunited, I gave Joey a hug. She was anxious to get into the car to talk to me which gave me a bad feeling because I knew she wanted to cry but would hold it in until she got in the car.

I was right. Mom, I didn't play with anyone today. Apparently there was some miscommunication (or lack of communication entire) when Ashlee (the neighbor girl) ran off expecting Joey to follow her. Joey thought Ashlee didn't want to play because she ran off and Ashlee thought Joey didn't want to play because she didn't follow. We moms got to the bottom of things and they're going to play together tomorrow.

Joey was also highly disturbed by the bell which sounds more like a buzzer. Mom, I was out at recess and there was this really loud sound. It scared me and I kind of twisted my toe when I tried to run. What was it? I guess no one had thought to tell her what those sounds were, assuming she would have already known.

Those were the only rough things. She did make a friend in her class though she can't remember her name. She likes her teacher and she enjoyed her classroom. She wants to ride the bus home from school tomorrow. And eat hot lunch. I filled up her lunch debit card today.

She isn't anxious about going back to school. She got her questions answered and has a plan to play with Ashlee tomorrow. I won't cry tomorrow. I can feel that her anxiety level is waning. I will make an appointment to talk to her teacher very soon so we can discuss her anxiety issues. I want her to know what we're dealing with at home and in therapy. She was very kind in letting Joey know that if she needed to go to the bathroom, she'd send a buddy along with her.

I feel wiped out. Emotionally wrenched. Is the first day at a new school this hard for everyone or am I just particularly wussy?

After school, I let her decompress quietly. Normally I don't let her watch too much TV (about 30 minutes per day) but I knew she just needed to chill out in very familiar surroundings and quietly process the events of the day so I let her watch 90 minutes of TV. She was eager to go to soccer tonight, though, and seemed in great spirits so all in all, the first day of school was ok. Not wonderful. Not Awful. But bearable. Barely bearable for me. Tomorrow will be better. Thursday we have dentist appointments in the morning and she has therapy after school. I think we're going to make it. And I promise not to cry into the dirty clothes anymore.

--L