When Pman was an infant I remember taking him for walks and giving the stink eye to the older children.
They were walking, eating, playing, going to the bathroom, all by themselves. I would glance down at my precious baby blob and think, "How does this adorable, drooling, fussy, narcoleptic baby turn into a running, laughing- actual child?"
This past May I dropped my running, laughing- actual child off at preschool so I could go register him for kindergarten. I thought that would be a very sad day, but I had the BL with me and she turned on the charm, grabbed at the pen I was using to fill out the unbelievable amount of forms and generally kept me distracted. I left that day without a tear in my eye.
All summer I've had this first day of school date looming in the back of my head.
"Eh, it's not until the end of August." I'd say to myself.
"You have plenty of time." I'd coach.
"It won't be bad and you'll be fine." Said my inner Jiminey Cricket.
P and I have been talking about what kindergarten means- lunch in a
cafeteria, bus rides, new friends, learning new things.
I would ask him, "Don't you already know a lot of things? Aren't you already smart?" To which he replied, " Yes, but I can be even more smart." How did he get so wise?
The bus is the
hardest for me, but seems to be the most exciting for him, so I'm trying
to keep my crazy, scaredness to a minimum. I'm telling myself to trust to process. I remind myself that this is my first time, but for nearly everyone else involved, this is just the another start to another school year- ho-hum.
I'm riding the wave that is Pman's typical unwavering excitement about all thing he encounters- all. things. His optimism is contagious.
While we ate lunch on his last official day of summer vacation, I asked him who he thinks he will
eat lunch the next day at school. I asked him who I should eat lunch with since he will be in
school and BL will be in preschool.
His advice, "Build a robot and eat
lunch with him."
On the night before his first day of school, J and I put the P's to bed, then about an and hour and a half later, we headed to bed. Shortly after we pulled the covers to our chins, we heard sounds coming from Pman's room. J went to investigate and came back to report that Pman was making carpet angels (like snow angels, but on the rug) in the middle of his room. In the dark.
The next morning, he bounded into our room at 6:38 fully dressed and shouts, "Am I late? Did I miss the bus?"
Clearly not the least bit nervous.
Here I am, in my first afternoon, minus my kindergartener. I'm okay because I know he is okay. I know if he is not okay, he would tell me. I'm also okay because I put a note in his pocket with his name, bus number and teacher's name in his pocket. He also knows my phone number by heart.