So, today I walked my middle child to his first day of kindergarten. Needless to say, I'm a wreck. I have spent most of the last five years helping him pursue safe activities. Last night he brought a stepping stool into the water-filled bath, so he could reach up high. He has been known to walk to his best friend's house, without shoes on, in the snow, at six in the morning. (His best friend's mom just calmly sits him in front of the TV, calls me, and waits for me to wake up and come get him.) He watches TV upside-down, balancing on his head. He believes he is Superman.
He looked so little, and a bit lost today, lining up with the other five-year-olds. I was tearful. He turned to me, and I knew it was coming. The 'take me home, mommy.' I wouldn't cry in front of him. I would be a supportive parent, give him a hug, and hold his hand all the way to the classroom. I bent down to give his anxiety proper weight, and looked in his eyes.
He said, "So, when school's done, are you going to just come and pick me up, or should I give you a call?"
Okay, he is superman. I hope his teacher is too. I am fully prepared for him to walk into the house, full stride, in the middle of the school day. I am expecting frantic calls from the school. I am prepared for every feeling except this knot in my stomach, which lets me know that I was not ready yet to let go. But, I'm not sure I ever would be.
It makes me feel as though I might never feel ready to send out my ms. I'm still revising, so it's not a huge issue now, but if I had my druthers, I'm not sure I would have sent my son to school today. A couple more years of preschool couldn't have hurt. Not because he's not ready for kindergarten, clearly, but because I'm not. Not ready to let go of this amazing creature that has required so much from me, and given me so much in return.
Will I feel the same fear and anxiety about my literary child? I hope not. But I wonder, how do you know when your child is ready, when you are not?
He looked so little, and a bit lost today, lining up with the other five-year-olds. I was tearful. He turned to me, and I knew it was coming. The 'take me home, mommy.' I wouldn't cry in front of him. I would be a supportive parent, give him a hug, and hold his hand all the way to the classroom. I bent down to give his anxiety proper weight, and looked in his eyes.
He said, "So, when school's done, are you going to just come and pick me up, or should I give you a call?"
Okay, he is superman. I hope his teacher is too. I am fully prepared for him to walk into the house, full stride, in the middle of the school day. I am expecting frantic calls from the school. I am prepared for every feeling except this knot in my stomach, which lets me know that I was not ready yet to let go. But, I'm not sure I ever would be.
It makes me feel as though I might never feel ready to send out my ms. I'm still revising, so it's not a huge issue now, but if I had my druthers, I'm not sure I would have sent my son to school today. A couple more years of preschool couldn't have hurt. Not because he's not ready for kindergarten, clearly, but because I'm not. Not ready to let go of this amazing creature that has required so much from me, and given me so much in return.
Will I feel the same fear and anxiety about my literary child? I hope not. But I wonder, how do you know when your child is ready, when you are not?
