I had my tissues ready in hand and we made the all-too-short walk to school. We stood outside for a while and listened to the principal’s first-day spiel, watched the Boy Scouts raise the flag, said the Pledge of Allegiance, and listened to the Star Spangled Banner (which always chokes me up, so it’s like the school staff was intentionally trying to make us kinder parents cry). But no tears; I held it together and was excited for my son to start a new adventure and meet new friends. Well . . . ok, no tears until I hugged him goodbye, then came the waterworks. Luckily I was able to hold it in until I was out of his view, and luckily I had my husband and lots of friends there to hug me and cheer me up!
We got through a week of school (granted, a short week because of literacy testing), and I was quickly adjusting to having three hours of quiet in the house each morning (he’s half day). It’s been strange not having my little sidekick with me constantly, but I’ve been consistent in my workouts, I’ve been able to make more business calls, and I’m amazed by how many more e-mails I can reply to when it’s silent and I’m not interrupted. I started looking into the future, thinking how nice it will be when both kids are in full-day school. I will be able to get so much more done during the day so that I won’t have to work at night, which is going to make our family life even better!
Then, this morning, I tried to let my daughter walk my son to his classroom. He grabbed my arm tightly and shook his head “no.” “Ok, buddy, I’ll walk you into the middle of the school and then you can walk to your classroom.” Walked in and I felt his grip get even tighter. “Ok, buddy, I’ll walk you to your classroom.” We get to his classroom and not even his wonderfully enthusiastic teacher can get him to smile or go into the room. He just starts grabbing at me, wanting me to hold him. “Ok, buddy, I’ll come into the room and we can unpack your bag.” I take his folder out and the teacher’s helper distracts him so I can make my getaway. Shoot….he saw me leaving. I hear him burst into tears and see him running after me with his arms outstretched as I walk away. In this moment I am convinced there is nothing more heart-wrenching than seeing my child run to me in tears, while the door closes between us.
His teacher did call a short while later to let me know he had calmed down and was doing fine. (Praise God for wonderful teachers who not only care about my children, but care about the mama’s feelings as well!)
Each transition in our children’s lives can be both exciting and sad. Today was a reminder that my kids are growing faster than I can blink my eyes. Funny how slowly time drags when we’re kids, but as adults we just can’t seem to find enough hours in a day. Doesn’t really seem fair, does it? Why does time seem to go by faster the older we get?
I hope my son has a better day tomorrow, though I will admit there’s a small part of me that is happy he just wants to be with Mommy. It doesn’t matter how tired and disheveled I look, how many mistakes I feel I’ve made, or how many times I’ve had to be the disciplinarian. My son still sees me as “Supermom,” and nothing/no one could ever take away that amazing feeling.