Transition

Transitioning from Daycare to Kindergarten for parents is like walking the tightrope without a net. Daycare was always there, except for the random staff development day typically associated with a three day weekend, normally easily planned. Many mistake the emotional lability with the reality that your child is growing up. My take on it, however, is that I am emotionally labile, tearful in fact, because I now have to navigate things like 'early release' and a "full day" that begins at 8:15 and ends at 2:20. Hardly enough time for me to practically "get" to work. On top of all these, we now must deal with things like voting days, oddly celebrated holidays, and vacations when it is so freakin cold going anywhere is essentially insane. For stay at home moms, I would love to believe the tears are actually those of joy, as I did stay home for a bit and enjoyed my personal time. Kindergarten starts tommorrow, but my transition week can be marked by a few related events.

Social skills development:
Going to the same beach over the last few years has afforded us the opportunity to meet some new friends. Oddly enough, one that is in my son's kindergarten class. He greeted his new friend, Lizzie, by spitting out his grape juice and acting like a complete goofball. Though he didnt impress Lizzie, her two year old sister was dually impressed. We didn't see much of the family after that encounter.

Fashion forward (or backward):
Preparing for the first impression at the new school(for me, not him!) was at the forefront of my mind. So much so, I carefully coordinated my red and white T shirt, Red Crocs and white shorts. Looking in the mirror to dry my hair I noticed my shoulder looked slighly odd. Looking more closely I realized that I had my shirt on inside out. Luckily, I had on "invisible" deoderant.

The frustration of Information gathering:
We entered school for Kindergarten testing, I was ushered to a small table and chairs, provided with a large folder of paperwork, and confronted by Miss Abby who would be testing my son. I rapidly explained his hearing loss in one of his ears, but didnt have time to relate his udder confusion between a "skip" and a "gallop". I proceeded to fill out the same card with the same information three times, and provided the same information on other sheets of paper. Another mother, entering in after me, remarked to the teacher, "there was less paperwork for graduate school!"
Trying to remember who my third back up emergency contact was, as well as our dentists phone number, I paused and skeptically thought, "I get it,you went to grad school."


The awkwardness of Good Bye
He missed the last day of school because a high fever and cold, which he has since generously shared with all of the family. We did promise he could return to daycare and say goodbye,thinking closure would be good for him, but I didn't think of how I would react. We entered daycare, and he hugged his teachers, went right to the play yard and blended in with his friends, holding court on the top of the slide. The director asked him if he would work there as a teenager, and after careful debate as to whether it would affect his budding career as a chemist, he accepted the position. I stood against the wall, hugging his teachers, saying thanks, and blubbering like a baby. After all, I was never good at goodbye, better at just walking away and not dealing. I attempted to put on my sun glasses but tears sneaked out from under. I amused myself watching Jasmine pour a bucket of sand over Charlie, and Theo manically grabbing the fence and crying, and 'the girls' near the fence ostracize or criticize another girl for trying to climb the fence, apparently a pre school faux pas. When it was time to go, he tried to blend into the line for lunch and I lured him with (of all things) a Dunkin Donut's personal pizza.
We turned around and walked out, as he happily waved good bye.

Label everything
I sit here looking at a back pack, picked out months ago, packed and ready for tommorrow. It's stuffed with items like clorox wipes, tissues, an art smock, and a shoe box with colored markers and pencils. We spent most of the night labeling it carefully. I am sure this is the last I will see of them, and come vacation, I will be back at Target scouring the racks for replacements. As hard as we try not to, we give everything a label from the beginning.

I just pray that tommorrow, he will be that well behaved kid I see, and the principal won't need that yellow card for his speed dial.