During the day yesterday, YA called me while I was at work.
YA: Do I need a library card to use the computers at the library?
Me: I’m not sure. Did you call to ask them?
YA: I’m there now. I don’t think I have a library card.
Me: I’m sure you do.
(Me rustling in purse)
Me: I have your card right here. Do you need the number?
YA: No – they gave me a temporary number.
This seemed innocuous enough until the real implications of the phone encounter hit me. I had her library card in my wallet because when she was a toddler and kindergartner, she didn’t have a place to keep her library card, so I held onto it. After all, back then, we were usually at the library together.
But if I still have her card, that means that since we quit going together (once she hit 2nd or 3rd grade), SHE HAS NEVER STEPPED FOOT IN A PUBLIC LIBRARY ON HER OWN.
Not having a reader for a child has been a hard pill to swallow. Obviously your children aren’t little models of yourself, but when they differ from you in a treasured part of your life, it takes some getting used to. I thought I had long ago come to this acceptance but yesterday’s realization was like that proverbial cold bucket of water. Ouch. If I was still in therapy we’d have to talk about this at my next appointment!
Any epiphanies recently? (Good or bad.)

I will personally never forget my first day of kindergarten – as a teacher, that is. Boy, was I nervous! It all went fine, apparently – once I was able to pry them out of their parents’ arms. I eventually managed to get all forty of them to sit down in their seats – at seven little tables with forty-odd little chairs. They would have received their personalized box of crayons, and tried them out on some paper handout I would’ve prepared. Some of them would have been able to write their names – wish I knew what percentage. (This was 1970, so most of them would not have been to a pre-school or day care.) I would have directed one table at a time to take the crayons, when finished, to their “cubbies” – their special place to keep their things. I would have tried herding them to the carpet area for a story, sung some songs, and had recess outside in our own private little courtyard. I wish I could remember more.