First Day. First Grade

Last Thursday night, my parents, my daughter, and I accompanied Scout to “Meet the Teacher” night at his new school. We were the first ones in the classroom. My sister, the teacher, told me it was valuable to be the first ones in the classroom, so we were.

Scout’s new teacher had the room laid out such that the kids were supposed to read signs and sort their school supplies at various stations in the classroom. She also let the kids pick out their own desks. I like her so much already.

Of course, I had to be told that the instructions were written on the board (and ahem… stop pushing my agenda). My mom pointed out a misspellings on one of the signs, which made me giggle. My dad studied the pick-up and drop-off procedures in depth. All of us suggested a desk for Scout based on the nerd-factor (up close, front, and center). However, he insisted on the one he wanted. (up close, front, and off-center) and we all just went with it.

I think his teacher learned pretty much everything she needs to know about US too. (Note: pains. in. the. butt.)

Then, she sent us home with a packet of information and a questionnaire titled, “Getting to Know Your Child“.

While listing what he enjoys to read, his favorite subject, and what he likes to do for fun was cake, I struggled with  “Do you have any concerns you would like to share? and “What are you hoping for your child to learn this year?”.

The answers to both can be summed up with “Everything” and “I don’t know. I guess the regular stuff”, except there is just so much more to it than that.  So much.

The last six months have been so tumultuous with the move and everything leading up to it. While the kids have handled the changes with so much strength and resilience, I know that transitions are tough on them– particularly for my son. New people, new situations, and new friends have always been a bit tricky.

So can my response please be:

I want to wrap him in bubble wrap and seal him up with a great big “Please Handle with Care” sticker, just as I did with my china before loading it onto a moving truck and sending it onto the unknown. I want to hoover. I want him to sit in the nerd desk. I want to KNOW his is okay.

Of course, I do. I am his mother.

On the other hand, I want him to learn his own way and take pride in how far he has come. I want him experience this little bit of independence, then tell me about everything he saw and did in his own excited words. I want him to be the same friendly, take-charge, intelligent little guy that he has always been.

So instead, I will stand back, be there for him when he is ready to tell me what he needs, and prepare to be amazed!

This morning, the kids were all smiles when I dropped them off at their new schools and eager to get things underway. We all have been. But I still pray that we made the right decision in moving back to Texas.

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