September 1 looms ahead—the first day of school. For most moms, it is a relief to be able to ship the kids back off to school. But, if this year is your “maiden voyage,” as a mom of a kindergartener, it is your FIRST first day of school and the thought of it is just downright heartbreaking. Even as a seasoned mom, the FIRST first day of school just doesn’t get any easier.
I talked a big game a few months ago with one of my friends, whose oldest child is starting kindergarten. She asked me if I was going to cry when I took Connor to kindergarten. I scoffed at the mere suggestion of tears and emotion. I told her I was going to be fine. I had been through this before, after all. It is no big deal.
Then, I went to kindergarten registration. As I wrote the check that would seal his fate as a school-aged child, I felt my eyes well up with tears and my throat go tight. I looked at this child who was no longer a preschooler. Wasn’t it just yesterday that I found out I was pregnant? Wasn’t it just yesterday that he walked for the first time? Where did the past five years go? He had gotten so big and now I had to say good bye to him. He was no longer my student but would enter the world of formal education and all of its positive and not so positive influences.
Looking back, he and I have had many mini goodbyes--when he stopped nursing, when he walked for the first time, when I left him with a sitter, even when he went to preschool for a few hours a week. Those were all sad and hard in their own way. But, they didn’t feel as hard as this goodbye.
He would be gone for hours each day, five days a week. Perhaps because I have older children, my worries were even more compounded from prior knowledge. There would be bullies who would try to hurt him. There would be the disappointments of a friend not liking him anymore or even the pain of noticing a scrape on his knee and not knowing how it got there. How would he make it all day without me? Who will wipe his tears if he falls? Who will hold him if he is scared? Who will help him in the bathroom? How is he going to get his coat on and off? Is he going to remember his back pack? How can I protect him if I am not right there beside him?
So, if that friend asks me again if I will cry on the first day of kindergarten, I will respond with a resounding, YES! I will cry like crazy and he will probably be very embarrassed.
As I stand on the school grounds that day with my box of tissue leaning on the strength of the other moms of kindergarteners standing with me, through my tears I will be very proud. I will always treasure the time I spent with Connor. There will always be a special place in my heart for him that will transcend space and time. It reminds me of that song: “Every time you go away, you take a piece of me with you…” He will take a piece of me with him that will represent the love we shared and the things we taught each other during the past five years. We will get through the first day of kindergarten and all the other hard goodbyes that follow because of that love. He will continue to grow and thrive and I will be there at each good bye to cry and to be proud.
--Chris
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Not as easy as solving for "x"
Though I didn’t particularly like math when I was in high school, I always did well. Maybe it was because I appreciated that math was so cut and dry (at least algebra was). Given an equation, we used a formula to solve for x and y and…voila, we were done!
Motherhood is the exact opposite. Every time you think you have the formula figured out, it changes. And there aren’t just two variables in each equation—there might be five, or even 10 or 20. Every child is different, so a formula that works for one family might not work for the other. High school math is predictable, while children are most certainly not.
I was bemoaning this fact earlier this week at a Mothers & More event at Wirth Park Aquatic Center. It was an incredibly hot morning, and I was meeting other friends at the pool in addition to the ladies from Mothers & More (I hadn’t RSVP’d, so I planned on just meeting up with the M&M group when I saw them). My plan was simple: I would bounce seamlessly from mom to mom, chatting while my almost-2-year-old Tyler played happily in the pool.
Except. Tyler kept climbing up the slide, then losing his nerve, insisting I slide down with him every single time. My friend Ashley was breastfeeding her 4-month-old, so I was trying to watch both Tyler and her 2-year-old. Every time I tried to talk to another mom, Tyler would head in the opposite direction and, fearing a toddler underwater catastrophe, I had to cut my conversation short.
I didn’t get to say more than a few sentences to most of the Mothers & More moms at the pool. I didn’t even cross paths with a couple of them (they’re probably reading this and wondering where I was!).
My formula for a perfect, social morning at the pool had backfired. Although I left after an hour and a half, I was tired beyond belief. Chasing a toddler (or two) around does not lend itself to social interaction!
But, I guess that’s what happens. The great part about Mothers & More is that the other moms completely understand when you have to walk away in the middle of a sentence to remove your child from imminent danger or a violent altercation (“Don’t hit that boy on the head with a shovel, sweetie!”) And even when the job of being a mom keeps you too busy to say much, it’s still nice to head to a park or pool knowing you can grab even a few minutes of adult conversation.
--Beth
Motherhood is the exact opposite. Every time you think you have the formula figured out, it changes. And there aren’t just two variables in each equation—there might be five, or even 10 or 20. Every child is different, so a formula that works for one family might not work for the other. High school math is predictable, while children are most certainly not.
I was bemoaning this fact earlier this week at a Mothers & More event at Wirth Park Aquatic Center. It was an incredibly hot morning, and I was meeting other friends at the pool in addition to the ladies from Mothers & More (I hadn’t RSVP’d, so I planned on just meeting up with the M&M group when I saw them). My plan was simple: I would bounce seamlessly from mom to mom, chatting while my almost-2-year-old Tyler played happily in the pool.
Except. Tyler kept climbing up the slide, then losing his nerve, insisting I slide down with him every single time. My friend Ashley was breastfeeding her 4-month-old, so I was trying to watch both Tyler and her 2-year-old. Every time I tried to talk to another mom, Tyler would head in the opposite direction and, fearing a toddler underwater catastrophe, I had to cut my conversation short.
I didn’t get to say more than a few sentences to most of the Mothers & More moms at the pool. I didn’t even cross paths with a couple of them (they’re probably reading this and wondering where I was!).
My formula for a perfect, social morning at the pool had backfired. Although I left after an hour and a half, I was tired beyond belief. Chasing a toddler (or two) around does not lend itself to social interaction!
But, I guess that’s what happens. The great part about Mothers & More is that the other moms completely understand when you have to walk away in the middle of a sentence to remove your child from imminent danger or a violent altercation (“Don’t hit that boy on the head with a shovel, sweetie!”) And even when the job of being a mom keeps you too busy to say much, it’s still nice to head to a park or pool knowing you can grab even a few minutes of adult conversation.
--Beth
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)