We've been prepping for kindergarten for a couple of weeks now-- from new shoes and supplies (all green ones, of course) to orientation, open house, and screening. Over the weekend we had lots of rules and handouts to go over, all in hopes of Gage coming home without incident because his soft heart just won't want to be in trouble... ever.
If he has his smiley faces on his desk slashed, he loses recess. If he scribbles, he has to re-do his work. Those are his most feared issues--losing recess and, possibly, having to color something more than once.
He isn't keen on his teacher's make up (Bless his heart) and told me that it's too dark and sparkly. He asked me to only wear soft, pretty colors on my eyes. However, his teacher's make up preference isn't deterring him from excitement because the only green apple labeling the coat hooks has his name on it. After orientation, my dad reported that every one in the building seemed to know him and talked to him with eagerness. The school switch has already proven to be a wise choice.
And today was our big day: Boarding the bus for kindergarten. He was at the end of our driveway about 25 minutes early and clearly had a lot of excitement going on. I was ready to vomit with dread and sadness and elation and joy all wrapped together. I just wasn't ready for this. I don't think anything would have made it any better, but putting him on the bus was the hardest. My saving grace was when an older boy on our road got up from his seat and moved up to sit with Gage. He had a bus buddy.
He is super excited for recess and science and lunch. Not super excited about learning to read. He is super excited to ride the bus, not super excited about not getting to ride to school with dad. Leila was asleep when Gage boarded this morning and was up when I walked back into the house. She asked where Gage was and after I told her, she looked instantly heart broken. I feel her pain.
We are planning on a family ski ride this evening-- I think Austin is trying to take care of my emotions. I'm just not ready to share him with school. My teacher role never trumps my parent role-- it may help in times but in times like this, I only feel worse about all the control I have to hand over. It's truly about experiences, guidance, and support at this point. I have to embrace that our children cannot be sheltered (although I still feel very entitled to choose my child's playmates) but rather must be led, supported, picked up, dusted off, and cheered. What a tough thing to do.
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