Kindergarten orientation was today. It was much longer and much more involved than I anticipated, and I couldn’t have been happier for it to have been both of those things, being detail-oriented and a little bit of a control freak like I am.
D was very touchy all morning before we went and even after we got there, snapping at the least little thing or dissolving into fake tears over something miniscule, like I wouldn’t let him wear crocs and made him wear real shoes. The teacher remembered his name from Friday’s testing and was very welcoming. The parents and children had a long “scavenger hunt” list of things to do/find in the classroom, which was a really creative way to get everyone to know where different things are and what they’re for. A little girl tried very hard to get D to sit down and look at a book with her but he knew she was flirting and threw big shade at her and moved on. There appears to be a wide mix of types and sizes of kids in the class, which is nice.
The kids were then taken to the playground to play for a bit until they had to all practice bus loading and unloading (even if your kid doesn’t take the bus, they have to know procedure for field trips). My PTA spy moms were everywhere. It was like that thing Mr Rogers said about the helpers. I pointed them out to D on Monday and while he didn’t know them, they knew who he was, and reported one took his hand to walk and comfort him as he was crying going out to the playground, and asking for me. I felt this in my spirit, physically, as it was happening and we were inside the classroom. I was suddenly taken with the urge to get up and run to him, that something was wrong, but I made myself sit there and let the helpers help, because I will not be there tomorrow when that happens, or the next day, and he has to get used to it. Then I thought maybe it was my own anxiety, until the PTA mom found me later and told me what happened. We are that connected, my boy and me.
He was also upset on the bus, and got to sit with the teacher, who is a pretty and smart young lady and I knew his tender heart would show, and so when he gets mad and yells, now she will already know about that other part.
The heads of the PTA gave a talk to all the kindergarten parents (there are six classes!) and I honestly felt proud and amazed at all they are doing and was glad I have already been to a couple meetings. I look forward to a time in the future when I will be as confident about what I’m doing there as they were today. The principal came up and thanked them too, which was nice. He was really involved today, helping direct traffic of the new school parents and generally being present whatever was going on, by the buses, in the lunchroom. It’s a good school and he will be ok. The PTA moms will be there at least the rest of this week.
Tomorrow morning I pretend to know what I’m doing, pretend to be excited and take my little boy clad in the spider man t-shirt he picked out for the first day, his new shoes, and his new spidey backpack with flashing spidey eyes to this big school, where I cannot stay, and I must turn and leave and try to concentrate on work. I’ve been gone for three days and have an enormous amount to do the next three, and I have to think about cranes and luffing jibs and boom size and man baskets and aerials or RTs or crawlers, writing an entire trade magazine cover to cover in a couple weeks.
I just want to go into his room where he is finally peacefully sleeping and grab him up and pull him into bed with me and cry, and whisper, “Not yet, not so fast, please.”
Damn, nobody tells you how hard it is to push them forward.