Somehow the little hummingbird that started this whole adventure into motherhood and led to the creation of this blog, started kindergarten this week.
It seems impossible.
Regardless of how it seems to me, he is in fact enrolled and attending kindergarten at public school. I have watched him get prepared over the last two weeks- counting down the days left at daycare, celebrating with a daycare/preschool graduation, getting a light-up backpack and supplies, and generally morphing into a school-aged kid.
We prepped him on the important things like listening to the teacher, being brave and talking to new friends, and being calm with his voice and body. He sort of listened and we felt we had done to the due diligence required for the starting school pep talk.
After the first day of school, we asked him a million questions to try to learn all we could about the school routines and skills covered in kindergarten. He vaguely answered some questions, lots of "I don't know", and lots of changing his original answers. At this point, it was clear that he had done his best all day and was starting to come unglued.
First, it was just some bouncing on the couch, then he was standing and jumping on the couch, then he was jumping on the couch yelling, "Butt cheeks! Butt cheeks! Butt cheeks!" He was hysterically laughing as he continued to let loose his string of profanity and jump up and down. I turned away and felt the tears well up in my eyes as I tried not to laugh. I couldn't resist- I too started laughing loudly watching him explode into life.
It was clear that he had kept it all together just as long as he possibly could and it was now the time to unwind and let go. It was funny. It was Monday.
Tuesday brought additional jumping and also an excessive amount of gas. Wednesday brought "the worlds most uncooperative dinner attendee" out of him. Thursday he got some special dad-hang time and we were mostly spared from explosions. Friday he was deciding how to feel and picked sad- "I am going to be sad because I miss God." (this was interesting for a variety of reasons).
It is clear that school is a transition unlike any other. He has been in daycare since he was 10-weeks old, but this is so very different. He doesn't nap anymore. His sister is sad every morning because the kindergartener and I leave before she is dropped off at daycare. I now have a chatterbox along for my morning commute. We have to do way more laundry (stupid dress code). All of us are feeling the effect.
But I feel happy about it. I love seeing the papers that come home demonstrating scissor work. I like hearing him talk about keeping is choices-tracker on green. I like hearing about the mean girl and hearing him talk about dealing with her. I like that he is growing and becoming ever more his own person. I like knowing that my husband and I managed to get him this far, even though he was once just a bunch of farts on parade.
