I put my *kindergartner* on the school bus for the first time Tuesday. He was so very excited! He practically lept onto the bus. He had a new backpack, new lunch-box, and a smile for the new kindergarten day ahead of him. He climbed into the front seat and peered out the window & gave a huge wave as the bus pulled away.
Talk about having wings! I know its only kindergarten but there wasn’t an ounce of “I’ll miss you, Mommy” in any of his actions all morning. After he was gone I will admit I was rather sad. I wasn’t one of those push-the-kids-out-the-door-moms. I really thought I was going to be. I love to watch him grow and take on new challenges. I also love peace and quiet… which is pretty infrequent with a 3- and 5-year-older. So the tears that flowed down my face about an hour after *E* was on the bus came to me as a bit of a surprise. (Although my stomach was churning for him the days before school started.)
Yesterday (Wednesday), I volunteered at the lunch-hour to help with the kids’ various needs; lots of go-gurts to open, straws to put in juice boxes and other package opening requirements (thank goodness for scissors). I really enjoyed it. I got to see the faces of *E*’s new classmates, and while everyone was eating I enjoyed standing around his table and engaging them all in conversation.
However, at the end of lunch the bomb dropped. *E* was ready to go home. There were tears, pleadings, cries for mercy and I had to look him sternly in the face and tell him that he needed to stay and finish up his school day. UGH, everything in me wanted to march him out of that building and bring him home. Everything in me recognized that there was no easy way to get him to let go of my leg. So ‘mean-momma’ (but oh so loving-momma) had to come out and do the ‘1 – 2 – 3’ thing. (The boys know if they don’t stop before I get to 3 they are in big trouble whatever the situation may be.) Reluctantly, he walked into his classroom; eyes red, still trying to catch his breath, and mad at Mom. I walked out of the building knowing that I did the right thing, but wishing I hadn’t had to.
He got home on the bus at 4:00pm, skipping across the road as he had done the day before. I peered in his backpack and found a note from the teacher that he did just fine the rest of the day. I had a sneaking suspicion he would. But was thankful for the note! It was a nice piece of reassurance that this boy has wings but sometimes needs to flap a little harder to get off the ground.