Peanut's first full day of school wasn't until Thursday, so he and I had a couple days together to do one last story time (little tear from me--I've been taking kids to story times for at least 10 years and I can't believe I don't get to anymore!), play with friends and run some errands.
But then, it was time for school. He was so excited to go back and see what real school was like. I was actually a little surprised because he's not usually one to jump right in to new things, but considering how much time he's spent in those hallways and classrooms over his lifetime, I'm not sure it felt exactly new. And they do a great job of easing them in. First full day was with only 7 other kids, so he got to experience the routines with a smaller group of students, which was just right for him.
When I left him, he was happily playing with blocks.
And the next couple days were the same, even though there were 20 kids in the class. He had a couple kids he already knew from preschool and playdates, which helped him feel secure, and I walked him in each day, and then walked in to pick him up.
But Wednesday morning, 5 days into the school year, he'd had enough. I think that was about the time that it sank in that this was life. He'd be leaving me every day to go to this same place, and he'd have to do some hard things, along with all the fun stuff, and he'd be asked over and over to do these things, all day long.
I got a phone call around 12 to let me know that he'd been crying off and on for a couple hours, saying he missed me, and was hanging out in the office with the counselor. I wasn't shocked--I'd been waiting for the novelty to wear off, and judging by the number of kids crying in the halls the next cuple mornings, I'd say he wasn't the only one who had hit a wall.
They absolutely didn't want me to come get him because that wasn't the precedent we wanted to set, but it broke my heart that he was so sad, and that I still had 3 hours until pick up. The growing up isn't just hard on him--it may be even harder on me.
He did calm down a little after lunch and was able to go back to his class for rest time, where apparently he FELL ASLEEP. This kid hasn't napped for years, and hasn't fallen asleep in some random place since he was a baby. I guess three hours of crying will do that to you.
He felt a lot better after he woke up and happily went to recess and was doing okay when I picked him up, but I knew we weren't through. The next morning, he didn't want to go to school and cried every time I mentioned the word. Just before we had to leave, I had a brainstorm and remembered hearing an idea to have a lucky charm and send it with your child if they have to do something hard, so I grabbed a little ceramic owl I had bought a few years ago that is supposed to protect one from suffering and hardship. I told him to keep it in his pocket and any time he missed me, he could touch it and remember me, and remember that it was supposed to help him be happy.
And it worked! He was still sad some that day, and he told me he pretty much held on to the owl all day, but he made it through the day without any phone calls to me. Later, I was talking with the art teacher, who has known our family since Bean was in 2nd grade, and she said that when she was giving the class instructions and then sent them off to their seats to begin with the reminder that the first step was to put their names on their papers, she saw his chin start to quiver and his lower lip poked out, but then he reached into his pocket and rubbed his owl really hard and then tried to smile. He did it a couple more times, but kept himself from crying.
(In the couple days following, we finally figured out that part of what set him off was the fact that he can't actually write his whole name yet, so the reminder to put his name on his papers is causing some issues with his perfectionism and desire to do what he is supposed to. We're all working with that, but it's made the beginning of school a little rough.)
With all this, I will say that I am so grateful that we are at the school we are. Peanut may be a little sad saying goodbye to me, but he's going into a classroom with two teachers who love him and are willing to work with him to make things right. And when he walks into the school, and is greeted by name by everyone in the front office and is getting high fives and smiles (and it's not just him, although they may have learned his name a little quicker than some--they really do try to greet all the kids at the beginning of the day), I feel pretty good leaving him. These teachers and administrators and staff care about every single one of the kids and they recognize that their smiles and cheerful words make a difference in how these kids perceive their world. They are doing an amazing job giving these kids a positive experience with school.
It's only been 3 weeks, but Peanut already feels so much older to me. The way he talks about his day, and the confidence he is gaining each day as we walk in, makes him seem like he actually belongs in school, which I wasn't sure about just last month. I'm a little sad that I'm not going to feel like I have a baby anymore, but happy for him and the independence he gets to experience.
