When she was in elementary school, my daughter thought the first day of school was a holiday.

“Really?” I said, wondering how I could have missed that. “Why did you think it was a holiday?”

“Well, everybody gets dressed up. And you get new things. And it’s very exciting. It’s a beginning. You’re going to learn new things and have new people in your class.”

To her, the first day of school was sort of like Christmas and New Year’s rolled up together. The day has its rituals, its symbols and it generally does come with gifts.

Because she went to a school that assigned children to the same classroom for two years, her second year with each teacher was her most favorite. She knew what to expect, so there was no nervousness, but there was plenty of positive anticipation about what she would be doing in the coming school year.

No wonder she thought it something to celebrate. “Usually,” she said, “I couldn’t sleep the night before.”

I never realized any of this. When contemplating this first day of school this year – my daughter’s tenth-grade year – I felt a little sad. How could I have not realized that “back to school” was a holiday my child liked more than Christmas?

But then, I did create the anticipation, didn’t I? I took her school shopping. I talked to her about how much fun it would be to be in the next grade. I usually had a nice meal the night before and a special breakfast – french toast or blueberry pancakes, food I never make on any other school day. I even took pictures.

The magic left sometime in middle school, right around the time puberty hit and her peers tried to convince my girl that reading and learning were “boring.” What she decided, unfortunately, was that school, and most teachers, were the real bores. Thankfully, that’s wearing off now in high school, as she’s more challenged and she understands the importance of good grades on her future.

She’s even a little excited about school starting again. “Only now, Mom, it’s all about my friends.”

HAPPY HOLIDAY, everyone!