Kindergarten's Here: A Momma's Thoughts
The backpack is packed. The lunch is prepared. Clothes are laid out. Bedtime has come and gone, and up I sit, hands paused over the computer as I write out my thoughts. The night before Kindergarten for my baby boy, my firstborn, is finally here.
I have dreamed of this day and I have dreaded this day.
Lots of parents, teachers, and friends have said words of consolation, mainly placating phrases, like
“It’s not like you’ll be home alone - you have two others!”
“Just wait until college - it’s even worse!”
These things remind me of the endless comments made during pregnancy, words meant to somehow provide comfort but coming up just a little bit short.
So many things are running through my mind, a mixed bag of emotions.
I remember my first day of Kindergarten VERY well. I was so excited! It was quite possibly, as I remember thinking, the BEST day of my little life! I had my backpack, the new saddle shoes, my hair in a braid, new clothes and my parents’ information pinned on my shirt. I looked back to wave to my Mother and I couldn’t BELIEVE she was crying. What could possibly be sad about this day?
So many adventures we’ve been on together, my N and I. Zoo trips, playgrounds, preschool co-op. Holidays, parties, social milestones like learning how to make friends, solving a disagreement. All alongside each other.
Tomorrow, he’ll let go of my hand, with his new clothes, and backpack. Shoes he picked out and a haircut he wanted. He’ll let go and he’ll walk into a door I cannot follow to have adventures that I’ll only hear about in recollection.
This new stage of life is one of the biggest ones of his shaping, and I cannot be there.
This is both an amazing and a nerve wracking thought. I know he is ready. I need to ready myself now, for the next phase of my parenthood journey with him, one of building my own confidence in what I know he can do, and helping him with what he cannot when he is feeling sad and discouraged.
A piece of advice my Mother told me, upon becoming a parent, has never rang truer:
“When you become a parent you will worry about your child every day for the rest of their life.”
I will not be able to stop someone from being mean, or him from being mean to others. I will not be able to solve his problems or make him pull up his pants, or speak quieter.
I will need to have faith that the lessons we taught him will stand true.
And in it all, I will see every day of the past five years tomorrow as he walks - probably runs! - into the building.
Preparing to go to the hospital to have him, at 41 weeks, nervous but so ecstatic I couldn’t nap during the day.
The second sleepless and delirious night in the hospital, trying to navigate nursing with sore nipples and a crying, tiny baby that I loved so much my heart was bursting, and I didn’t even care how tired I was.
All the nights to come of wondering if he was getting enough, if he should be sleeping more.
Seeing new doctor after doctor for his terrible diaper rash, and trusting my gut to find a second opinion.
Rejoicing when he slept through the night.
Bawling when I went back to work, and rushing out of the classroom every single day to pick him up and hold him close.
Finding a WHOLE NEW CAREER and embracing my time at home, based on the knowledge and love and role of being his mother.
Calling all our family when he crawled, when he walked, recording his first words and praising his potty training.
Knowing all of his favorite things, watching him learn his likes and dislikes, and becoming so excited in his developing personality.
Crying when he became a big brother, and watching my own heart grow again seeing how much he loved his brother.
Seeing a little toddler turn into a preschooler and beaming at how well he made his own friends at school.
I’ve been there for it all. I will be here for all that is to come. It’s time. He’s ready.
And I’ll put on my oversized sunglasses and squeeze my toddler’s hand too tight and let the tears drop onto my baby’s forehead as I bend down to kiss her in her carrier and will myself to walk away from the building and back home.
And for sure I’ll be there at the end of the school day to catch him in my open arms and hear how the day went!
For all my kindergarten mommies tomorrow, remember in your moments of flashbacks and disbelief,
“Don’t cry because it’s over; smile because it happened.”
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