The First Day of School: Timeline of a Kindergarten Mom

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There’s this absolutely crazy thing happening tomorrow and I can’t quite wrap my brain around it yet: MY LITTLE(est) BOY IS STARTING KINDERGARTEN! Now, obviously I’ve know that this day was coming for approximately as long as I’ve known this child, but it’s still caught me off-guard. How on earth did I go through the (insanely long) pains of labor, turn around, and suddenly have a little boy who will be LEAVING ME? Tomorrow. This growing up thing truly did happen too fast and I still won’t admit that it’s actually happening. After all, Denial is the first stage of surviving motherhood.

My saving grace is that I’ve already been through the first day of kindergarten with my oldest son and, I am pleased to report, that I survived the ordeal. You see, the first day of kindergarten is kind of a big deal. Yeah, it’s a big deal for the kids…but it’s a REALLY big deal for the parents. Especially the moms. A lot happens on that first day of kindergarten–and for the moms, it looks something like this:

6:00am    What is that annoying beeping noise? Oh, it’s an alarm. I haven’t had to use one of those since my college days when I had to make it to an early class at, like, 11:00. But alas, now it is time to get up so I can prepare myself mentally/physically/spiritually/coffee-ly for the day ahead.

6:30am    Shower and get dressed because you know once the kids are up the rest of your morning will be swallowed up in the “we must be out the door by 8:30” tornado.

6:35am    Start preparing a special breakfast for your new kindergartener. They should definitely have a full tummy before they leave for their big day. We can resume Cheerios and bananas (if they’re currently in a “willing to eat bananas” phase) tomorrow.

7:00am    He’s awake! Your groggy kindergartener (we’ll just call him “K”) slinks down the stairs and tries to sneak his tablet up to his bedroom before you can notice that he’s there. Nice try, bub, but your ninja stealth will have to wait until the weekend. We’ve got work to do.

7:05am    K asks for breakfast. You tell him that you’re making him a special breakfast and it will be ready soon.

7:06am   K asks for a snack. You remind him of the breakfast that you are currently exerting extreme effort toward preparing for him and if he’d just leave you alone for 5 minutes you could actually finish making it so we could eat.

7:10am   K asks for a snack again. You politely refuse.

7:12am    K asks for a snack again. You make a mental note that between the hours of 9:00am and 3:30pm he will not get to ask you a single time for a snack. Kindergarten is sounding better and better all the time.

7:30am    Breakfast is served! K is not hungry.

8:00am   Send K up to his room so he can get dressed in the outfit that you selected together last night so there wouldn’t be any wardrobe drama on The Big Morning.

8:10am  Go up to K’s room to see how adorable he looks in his back to school outfit. You open his bedroom door and find him laying on the floor playing Legos…naked. Well, at least he got out of his pajamas.

8:11am    K refuses to wear the approved outfit. Present him with other appropriate choices and have them all vetoed in favor of pajamas or superhero outfits.

8:22am    Make a truce that if K will wear real clothes to school today then he can wear pajamas all weekend, even to church. I’m sure God approves of being cozy.

8:25am    How is it already 8:25?! We have to be out the door in 5 minutes MAX, actually more like 4. And we haven’t even taken the required first day of school photo on the front porch yet. You start yelling like a toddler who was just served his sandwich with the crust still attached–everyone must put on their shoes NOW.

8:28am   Not one single person save yourself has put a single shoe on their own foot. There are 100% shoeless feet milling about the hallway. Give the yelling another try.

8:31am  Great, now we’re a full minute late. Oh well, at least now he has his shoes, jacket, and backpack on. Photo op!

8:32am  Give K the super cute chalkboard with all of his first day of school stats that you worked on all last night. Tell him to hold the chalkboard straight and smile. He holds the chalkboard upside down and makes a goofy face. Close enough.

8:35am   Drive K to the bus stop because you’re going to drive behind the school bus the whole way to school today and make sure he does, in fact, get from point A to point B.

8:37am   The bus should be here any minute! The anticipation is palpable.

8:39am   Hmmm…where is that school bus…?

8:43am    There is a school bus coming, right?

8:48am   The bus finally arrives (apparently schedules are only moderately heeded by school buses). You watch nervously as K walks toward the bus. He walks up the stairs, sits down in the front row, and doesn’t even wave goodbye. So it begins.

8:49am   Jump back in your car and follow that bus like your a PI tailing your highest priority suspect.

8:54am   Try to park your car in the (very full and chaotic) school parking lot but realize that all of the other moms followed the school bus today so there’s no parking left. Park down the street and hustle back to the school so you can watch K go into his classroom.

9:00am  Arrive at K’s classroom just as the bell is ringing. You have just enough time to give him a hug and a (discreet) kiss before his teacher opens the door.

9:02am   K walks in the classroom and you can see him hang up his backpack before he disappears around a corner. Realize that this is it: he’s officially in big kid school. Commence: ugly cry in the middle of an elementary school hallway.

9:04am  You pull yourself together when another mom comes over and gives you a big hug. She’s been there before, too, she says.

9:05am  Sneak over to the classroom window and steal a last peek of K inside his classroom. He’s busy coloring something at a table and he seems totally comfortable and not at all like he already misses his mommy. Decide that it’s safe to leave.

9:06am   Wait! I get to leave! FREEDOM!!!

9:10am    Get in your car and contemplate all of the amazing things you could do today now that you have childless freedom. Become overwhelmed by the options and decide to just drive home.

9:11am – 3:30pm   Putz around your house and periodically miss your child.

3:31pm   Walk to the bus stop so you can greet K when he gets off the bus.

3:40pm   The bus should be here any minute!

3:45pm    Hmmmm…where is that school bus?

3:49pm    There is a school bus coming, right?

3:53pm   You see a big yellow bus coming up the road—he’s home!

3:54pm   K hops off the bus and he smiles his Happy Smile when he sees you. All the hugs and kisses.

3:55pm   As you walk home, you ask K how his day was and what he did and who he played with and how he likes his teacher and what was his favorite part. He replies to the battery of questions with a shoulder shrug.

4:00pm   K runs in the door to your house, throws his backpack on the floor, and asks for a snack. Some things never change, and that’s a good thing. You give him a plate of chocolate chip cookies (that you actually had time to bake while he was off at big kid school). On his very own he says “thank you” and you say, “where did you learn such polite words?”. “School!” he says, and you realize that this kindergarten thing might not be so bad after all.

***

To all of you starting a new season of adventures, may it be the best one yet!

Dear Lily

Birthday cupcake

In 2015 I had a miscarriage and we lost what would have been our third baby. This is a letter to that child.

Dear Lily,

Today would have been your third birthday and, as much as I wish you were here celebrating with us, I have hope that some day I will see you again. And that, my precious one, will be the greatest celebration of all! Until then, however, I just want you to know that we remember you.

I think of you often, and sometimes the funniest things will remind me of you. A toddler’s giggle. The first flower I see poking out of the spring soil. Sunshine after a storm. There are little reminders of you all around and it makes me smile every time I see one of them.

Your brothers are getting ready to go off to “big school” together for the first time in a couple of weeks and I can’t help but wonder what you would have thought of them–their silly antics, their endless energy, their unwavering devotion to the things that they love. I know that they would have loved you.

Hannah is two now and I can’t help but wonder if a piece of you lives on in her. She is made of smiles and giggles, and she has a knack for melting hearts. I like to think that she has an extra dose of love to give because she carries some of your love inside of her.

It’s a strange thing to miss someone you’ve never met and to love someone so deeply when you’ve never actually seen them face to face. But I am your mommy, and that is enough. Even though I never got to hold you in my arms, I will continue to carry you in my heart–on your birthday, on the ordinary days, and on the extraordinary days.

So today, Lily, we remember you.

Always and forever,
Mommy