My middle child is going through some uncomfortable transformations. I suppose kindergarten is rather analogous to first year at university: one searches, blindly at first, for those aspects of existence that offer some continuity while in the midst of great change. One regresses and pushes forward, all at the same time.
I can see her looking out at the world, and not quite comprehending the gaze of those around her, including her own:
Curiosity, fear, curiosity, fear, curiosity, fear. The pattern weaves back and forth, until the whole venture becomes something recognizable to her, like an old garment. Which of course she will then shed, and the process begins anew.
For now, she take refuge in elaborately designed playclothes:
And, the most beguiling of all childhood pastimes, sorting and listening to seashells. Remember when you did that?