The First Day - Part One

Tomorrow is Michael's first official day of kindergarten. Our whole life changes tomorrow. He's looking so forward to it - to meeting new friends and eating lunch in the cafeteria, but especially taking the bus ride to and from school. He rode it at the kindergarten orientation he went to on Tuesday and thought it was great fun.


The orientation was interesting. Neither of us had any idea of what to expect. I told Michael that he would get to see his classroom and meet his teacher again and see all the other kids that were going to be in his class, but beyond that I wasn't sure what we would do.


I wasn't far off the mark. When we went into the classroom we were greeted by Michael's teacher, Mrs. N. She remembered him right away (I told him later that he had made a good first impression when he gave her flowers at the Meet the Teacher picnic). She then handed me two folders: one was Michael's school folder and the other contained the PTO (that's Parent Teacher Organization for you school newbies) information. Inside Michael's school folder was a parent's dream - it contained enough information to answer all of my questions, plus some! This is a teacher that I can love, I thought.

Our task that day was to participate in an informal, self-directed scavenger hunt around the classroom, completing tasks such as finding the bathroom, finding the sink and washing hands, reading a story at the reading pad (of course all the stories were about starting school and I was hard pressed to find one that wouldn't make me cry - I failed at that), and doing a craft project that would later be posted in the hallway.




Then came the bus ride. Parents and kids got to ride and ask questions. Much to my relief I learned that any bus worries I might have are unfounded. When Michael gets off the bus at school the first day he will be directed to his room and won't have a chance to get lost. And when he rides the bus home he'll have a "Bus Buddy" who will help him choose the right bus to get on.

The hour went by so fast that I barely had time to take a picture of Michael with his teacher before it was time to go. Michael hadn't really had the chance to meet any new friends but I assured him that he would have no problems on the first day since he is the best friend maker I know. Michael had been a little nervous before the orientation but now that he was familiar with the school and his room his nervousness turned into excitement for his real first day.

Tonight as I lay in bed with him we talked about his first day tomorrow.

"Are you scared?" I asked him.

"No, I'm not," he replied. "I'm excited to ride the bus and meet new friends." That's my boy.

I, however, am not looking forward to tomorrow morning. It is going to be a rude awakening. For one thing, we are quite out of practice at getting up before 8:00. But now we have to get up before 7:00 for him to catch the bus by 7:45. There's a lot to do in that hour too: get dressed, eat breakfast, brush teeth, put shoes and coat on, gather up backpack and lunch. I could do all that in 30 minutes or less. My child, however, is slower than a snail and sometimes thinks his name is "Come on!" I swear I'm considering having him wear his school clothes to bed just to save some time in the morning. We did a practice run this morning and it took him 25 minutes alone just to eat breakfast!

However, we laid out his clothes before he went to bed and I have his backpack and lunch all ready to go. And I'm making him a relatively fast breakfast to eat (french toast and bacon). We should be able to do this morning thing tomorrow.

Regretably my own mom won't be here for Michael's first day of school (she's in Italy celebrating her 40th wedding anniversary with my dad). So tomorrow I'll have to recall the wisdom she wrote to me before she left for her trip:

"June 9, 2003...you became a mother. A job that will last a lifetime and one that changes like the colors of a kaleidoscope. You immersed yourself into motherhood, giving Michael your undivided attention, love, and support. You nurtured his imagination, his zeal for knowledge, and his creativity. You carefully selected his books, his television viewing, and his playmates. You monitored his food, kissed his boo-boos, helped him recover from imagined hurts, and encouraged him in all of his pursuits.

September 2008...Michael begins kindergarten. And now your protected little boy makes his first venture from the nest...to a world that belongs to him. Where he will need to make friends, negotiate challenges, abide by rules, and be responsible for himself.

You've laid the groundwork and have given your little boy so much to carry him in his school life. He has confidence that his world is safe, he has a healthy body, he has exuberance for learning, and he has a compassionate heart.

So as you prepare for this first step away from home, remember the wise words of Erma Bombeck who said:

'Parenting is like flying a kite. We work so hard to create and make it as perfect as we can. And then we launch it...running with it to make it fly higher and higher...further and further from our sight. And when it gets to its apex we let it go.'"

I'm letting go, Mom, really I am. One finger at a time.

Watch for part two of this blog - a full report of Michael's first day of school. In it I will answer these questions: Did he make any friends (probably)? Did I cry as I put him on the bus (of course!)? Did Nicholas cry because he couldn't go with Michael to school?