“I hate kindergarten!”
I heard this bold (and completely unqualified) statement several times leading up to the first day of school for Biz.
“But how do you know you hate kindergarten if you haven’t experienced it yet?”
I knew the answer to this question, of course, because I’m his mom. And he’s just like me. Skeptical of the unknown. Fighting what others want or expect him to do. Yet knowing, in the back of his mind, that everything will be fine.
He was nervous, not knowing what to expect. He just moved into a new place with his mom, brother and dog. Without his dad and his other dog.
We’re just about settled in, but his room still needs organizing.
He’s got a big playground behind his new house with lots of new kids to play with, but it can be overwhelming.
He looks around and sees his friends with both parents together.
We said good-bye to a daycare he’s been at since he was 8 weeks old, where the owner slept over our house on Thanksgiving night to take care of his big brother while I gave birth to him.
It’s easy to get wrapped up in what’s going on with yourself and forget what the kids are going through.
Everything I’ve done in the past six months has been for my boys, yet the start of school reminds me of how fragile they really are.
It was pure torture for Biz to watch his big brother G start fourth grade while he had to wait to start kindergarten.
It was pure torture for me to get him to walk with us down the road to the school and get used to our new commute in the morning. We’d drop G off and then walk over to Biz’s school. A practice run to make sure I could get both to school on time.
I don’t know what Chinese water torture feels like, but I think it’s similar to walking with Biz to school. He dragged his feet behind us and complained the whole way, playing with sticks and acorns he found on the side of the road, as I yelled back to him that we had to keep moving. School had an actual schedule we had to adhere to.
When “family day” finally came, we waited for the bus together.
And we rode the bus together. His dad was there too. It was awkward, but it worked. We spent an hour at the school and then went back home. The next day, he went for a half day. We celebrated with lunch at Johnny Rockets, just me and my strong-willed boy.
Yesterday, he started his first full week of kindergarten. He was excited.
Just like his strong-willed mom. He may not like the process or the expectations, but he knew what he had to do. He walked into kindergarten and killed it. He enjoyed the bus, made a friend, and used the “colonel” at school (where you pee standing up in the boys room).
It wasn’t so bad after all.
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