Ecole de Paris

You know those really cute first day of school pictures that adorned your Facebook feeds a few weeks ago?

They were so cute weren't they?  All those little people dressed up in their gorgeous little clothes becoming so big and serious - awwww.

Well, we didn't really get any good "first day of school" shots of Paris - because the Paris picture approaching the first day of school can be stylistically interpreted as:

She survived - and she did do some cute filmmaking post the first day that pulled it out of the fire, but it was a long first week - and then she discovered that, due to a public holiday, that was actually a short week.

She. Was. Livid.

 

Paris is not yet in love with the whole concept of school.  She enjoyed one day of it last year for orientation, but cannot see the value of it being FIVE days EVERY week.  She did not sign that treaty, white man.  

I can see her point.

She is becoming resigned to it being a fact, however.

The battle to get through the:

• get dressed in uniform
  
  
• put hair up
  
  
• put shoes on
  
  
• eat breakfast 
• do teeth
  
  
• get out of the door
  
• drive to school 
• walk to the classroom 
• be stoic in the face of losing your parent for the whole day
  
  
•  in a classroomful of strangers and bossy but very nice ladies with a bell

• eat what you are told when you are told
  
  
• explore and play in a confined space with twice as many strangers
  
  
• sit quietly in the heat 
• get picked up by old friends
• wait for your parent to take you home
  
  
• bathe
  
  
• eat
• bed 

routine is gradually getting a little easier.  

She is more keen about the experience in the rear view mirror than in anticipation.

But at least she isn't hating it.

She quite likes the concept of reading.

    

 She gets to do music.  And PE.  Look at me do a handstand on the couch Mum!  Science - she got to look through a microscope.  Library was good.  When will I get to go on a big bus?  Homework (we ALL get to do that - last week it was a family portrait!)  Every day there is a new friend - well, not really a friend, just someone new with a nice name and the potential of maybe getting her down the track.  She immediately names a doll a similar name and they play schools where Daddy is the principal and the good kids get to sit on silk bow thrones.

 I don't know how to break it to her that there is another 12 years of it after this one, though.