My youngest, E, started Kindergarten two weeks ago. After week one, my first day jitters and worries had passed. E's birthday is September 1st so in our state she was born on the cut-off date to start school. Had she been born twelve hours later, we would likely have had to wait another year to start elementary school. She will always be the youngest in her class. Because of this, I was worried. So last year we bumped her up to five-day-a-week preschool and she was blossoming. Even with the confirmation that she was academically ready and seemed well-adjusted, I was super nervous about her starting and the news that she'd been doing great that first week was welcome.
The next Monday, just as I was drawing in a great breath of relief, I received a call from the school.
E had been crying a lot. She seemed inconsolable; crying that she missed me, missed her sister, was bored. They'd pulled her from class and had her in one of their intervention rooms because she just wouldn't calm down. She was holding a stuffy but really sad.
Have you ever had that feeling where it's almost like your feet are swept out from under you? Your legs go numb and your heart sinks low into your stomach. Momma Bear inside was roaring and clawing to get out - to go comfort my baby girl, to hug her to me and tell her she never, ever has to leave me again. I was a mess after that call (and, lucky me, got to go sit through 2 1/2 hours of biology lecture).
After school that day, E seemed happy when she got off the bus, much to my relief. Her teacher called me and we spoke about it some more. E can be a bit emotional when she's tired or hungry so I chalked it up to not having gotten enough sleep that weekend due to her pre-birthday excitement. We talked about ways to calm her and incentives to not have a meltdown in the first place. One of those was that E would get to call me at the end of the day, just before dismissal, if she had a meltdown-free day.
Tuesday, I didn't get a call. Wednesday, still nothing. Thursday was her birthday so I brought her lunch - Panera - and hung out with her there and at recess. Her teacher says E was crying this morning as soon as she came in the classroom. She calmed down quickly, which is good, but the idea of my little girl, on her fifth birthday, a belly full of cupcake-shaped pancakes. getting on the bus and bursting into tears makes me die a little inside. Thank goodness A rides the bus with her and E wasn't alone or I may have just pulled her out of school on the spot.
Friday morning I decided to drive her into school and walk her to her class. Which was a big mistake. We both cried that morning; E when we got to her classroom, and me when I got to my car. However, E had a great day! She called me just before school let out and told me about a new friend she'd made at recess and my heart brightened with joy. Had we finally gotten over the hurdle?
Monday was Labor Day so we had a long weekend. Monday night, she starts crying again. School is boring. She's scared (she isn't really - she just throws out any reason she thinks might work). She misses me. I'd made her and myself little bracelets to wear that she could kiss whenever she missed me and I would kiss mine when I missed her (I actually think I may kiss mine more that her during the day). We decided she would tell her teacher a joke every morning - a different one that we pick out the night before and practice.
Tuesday was a great day! No meltdowns, her teacher informed me in a note she sent home with E that was proudly given to me the moment she got off the bus.
But then Wednesday... today. She had a small meltdown, which I'm not sad about really. It happens. She's 5. But we started reading The Kissing Hand. If you've never read that book - whew! I suggest you go through it once BEFORE reading it to your children. I got choked up halfway into it.
Then the tears started - on her end this time. "I just want to stay with you." "I miss you too much." "I like you a whole lot and don't ever want to leave you." "I just want it how it was."
When your child says these things while bawling her sweet little face off, your heart breaks and crumbles. I forgot all about how she refused to taste the dinner she asked for and called it "yucky" the minute I set it in front of her. As much as I want to hold her to me and kiss her and tell her she doesn't need school and we can just live together forever, I know this isn't the best for her. I tried distracting her after a bit of reassuring that even though she is going to school, we will still get fun days together, knowing that in a way she's right. It won't ever be the way it was before kindergarten started. There won't be endless Mommy and E days where she accompanies me on a few errands before I give in and get us froyo at Costco.
And GOD. I'm aching at that realization. So I read her another book - Peppa Pig this time - around a lump in my throat while I hastily wipe my tears from my eyes so she doesn't see that I'm also so super sad. I kiss her goodnight and tuck her in tightly, making sure she knows that even though she misses me, she will learn to love school and all that it entails. Even though selfishly I just want her to stay with me.
I miss her too much.
I like her a whole lot and never want her to leave me.
I just want it how it was.
