Big Girl School

Our oldest grandchild, Eliana, will be 4 next month. Today, she entered a public Pre-K program near their home.

“I’m going to a ‘Big Girl School,’” she had said enthusiastically many times this summer. I had heard her parents refer to the Big Girl School too, and I assumed they coined it that to differentiate it from the preschool program where she had been enrolled.

Last week, with her first day approaching, I asked if she’s excited that that she’ll be making new friends with the boys and girls in her class.  

“Not boys,” she said, “Just girls.” 

“You don’t want to play with boys too?” I asked. “No,” she said emphatically.  

I’ve never seen Eliana not have fun with anyone, including her brother and older and younger male cousins, so her comments were a bit surprising.

And then it dawned on me after a few more go-arounds of this conversation that perhaps to Eliana, a Big Girl School meant a school just for girls, and that’s how she’s been picturing it.

So, I asked her: "Do you think your school is just for girls, NOT boys?” 

She looked sooooo relieved and said with all her Eliana charm, “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

Given that the program was set to begin shortly, I let her know she’d be going with boys too, so she wouldn’t be shocked and off her game when she saw them in her room.

Since she’s enjoyed going to school with boys and girls her whole little life, I think her resistance to boys now was due to the fact that the thought of them conflicted with her vision of life in her Big Girl School.

We happened to be babysitting for Eliana right after the Pre-K orientation, and she came over in great spirits. She told us that in her classroom she’ll be sitting in a group of 4, which will include a red-head girl named Emily, along with…2 boys.

And she was smiling, too!