That's me. Straddling the two worlds of being a parent of elementary schoolers and now a middle schooler. To say that I am not prepared would be an understatement.
Caught off guard.
Freaked out.
Scared to death.
And a resounding, "I'm not ready!!!"
But I prepared myself as best I could. I put on my brave face. My poker face, or the best one I could muster, and I fought back the tears and I did not run after to bus screaming, "Don't take my baby..." I was strong and dignified.
Yeah, right.
I went to the Parent Night. It was pretty cool. I felt it did a good job of preparing me for her Middle school experience. I was given a copy of her schedule and I went to each of her Day 1 classes, I had 4 minutes of passing time in between to get from one class to the next. I found her locker. I took notes on tidbits I thought would help her. I was slightly bemused through out the evening for several reasons. The first one was purely superficial: I was one of the youngest parents I saw (compared to being at the elementary school earlier where I felt really, really old). The second was the silliness I saw in all these old parents walking the halls, looking lost and asking each other, "When do you have Math?" "I'm going to Gym next..." "Oh, do you have So-and-So for Science?" And I remembered my first day of junior high. It did not seem all that long ago. But then I did the math. It was 25 years ago. And I was back to feeling old again.
My dear, darling daughter is the sweetest girl on the planet. But she is not very organized. So, this is my goal for her this year, to learn how to stay organized and stay on top of things. The school helps in that each student is given an "agenda" or a planner in which they write down all their assignments and important information. But that notebook does not help the child who loses things in the nest she calls her bed. She's a pack rat. She has to save every scrap of paper as if it is treasure. She can't part with a single item because it is precious.
I love that she is so sentimental and saves birthday cards, Valentines...but gum wrappers from Kindergarten? Really...come on! I realized that I was never really "taught" how to be organized. I sort of came by it naturally but there are things that I wish I had been told when I was in junior high. So, this is my mission. And it is something that she and I can connect on as well. I know that very soon, and a whole lot sooner than I want it to happen, she will pull away from me and want to go off to her friends. So I have to put anchors in her heart and in her brain that let her know that Mom is a safe person, Mom is trustworthy and has her best interests at heart, Mom is here to help.
So, I bought her 3 ring binders, one for each class except gym. I put labels on the end. She and I developed a color code to identify which classes are everyday classes (they are green), Day 1 classes are Red and Day 2 classes are Blue. I marked on her map of the school where her classes are, where her locker is. We talked about when she would have time to go to her locker and when she would not and how to plan her day.
She came home from her first day of school looking happy. I was sort of expecting her to look frazzled and upset. But I really think it helped that we had planned everything out and discussed some potential problems ahead of time. She had been inside the school once, so she had an idea about how it was laid out. She had worked her locker combination so many times, she already knew it by heart and could probably open it in her sleep, so that anxiety was gone.
I found myself going through the day thinking about where she was and what class she was in. I wondered how she was doing. Did she like her math teacher? Did she make a friend? Was she feeling scared? And then when it was time for her to come home, I was on the edge of my seat, practically jumping out of my skin in anticipation, ready to pounce on her with a boisterous, "How was your day...tell me everything...what did you like...what did you not like.."Which would have completely freaked her out. So, I held back and let her talk as she was ready. By the time dinner was on the table, she was spilling over with all the things she had to say.
I listened to her talk about her classes and practice her new french phrases and I realized, she's not a baby anymore, she is growing up. It's hard but I have to let her go. But I am here for her when she gets home.
Tomorrow, Peanut goes to Kindergarten. I can't promise I won't cry because I know I will.
No comments:
Post a Comment