I know it's been a bit quiet around her. The kids started school on Wednesday and I tried to stay offline as much as possible. And you'd think since starting school things would have calmed down a bit, but it's been a bit of a roller coaster ride of emotions the past couple of days.
The night before the big day, we went bowling together as a family treat, then followed up with dinner at the kid's favorite restaurant, CPK. Things were going smoothly and everyone was up to their usual antics.
Taylor learned to bowl sans ramp. The good old between the leg toss got her a decent score.
Syd, determined to win, stuck with the ramp and aimed most of his shots perfectly.
Art worked on perfecting his launch, in dramatic fashion. He took 3 years of bowling in college. He takes his bowling very seriously.
And I, well I just sat there most of the time, but I did at one point go head to head with a bowling ball. The belly won without a fight.
The next morning came, and although Syd said he was a bit nervous, he trudged on and we trekked across the street to class.
Luckily he was assigned Taylor's old kinder teacher Miss Peel, so we thought we had a slam dunk on our hands. His big sister was at the same school, familiar playground, familiar teacher. He had it made right?
He continued to be all smiles until it came time to leave. And then the waterworks ensued. Big ol' crocodile tears that break a momma's heart.
He had a super short day that first day and when I picked him up he seemed fine. But when we got home he said he just stood there at recess because he didn't know what to do. Within an hour he was telling me he didn't want to go back. He continued moping around and whimpering all day. Even Jules' boys, who were visiting so that we could get a little Craft Cabinet planning done, couldn't break him out of his funk. By the late afternoon, he was complaining of an upset stomach.
By that night, whimpers had turned into sobs and he was distraught beyond comfort, saying over and over again that he didn't want to go back and begging me, yes begging, to be home schooled. He was scared to eat lunch by himself, scared he'd have to play by himself at recess.
The next morning he woke up at 6:30 (early for him) and crawled into my bed. I could tell he had been crying, and he started again begging me not to send him to school. He sobbed the entire morning as we got ready for school, and sobbed loud pathetic sobs at drop off. Outside of the classroom I almost punched another mom in the face when she looked at me, not realizing Syd was my boy, and said "There's always a crier."
The thing is I know he will end up being okay. Taylor cried for 6 whole weeks at kinder drop off and one day she just stopped and now she genuinely loves school. Syd's teacher told me at pick up yesterday that he cried for all of 1 minute and then was fine the rest of the day. Today's drop off was a little whimpery, but no real tears or sobbing fits, so there's improvement already.
But in the mean time, there's a part of me that can't help but wonder what I'm doing wrong here. Why are my kids so afraid of change, and so stuck with the idea of being at home? I wonder if I've done something to make them feel insecure, or haven't given them enough confidence. I know it's probably unrealistic for me to think that way, but as a mother sometimes you can't help but feel your child's behaviors are always a reflection of how you're raising them.
Art reminded me that I was the exact same way, from the stories I told him, when I was a kid. After all, I called my mom to pick me up from Junior High camp because I was so terribly homesick. I always assumed it was because of my chaotic and dysfunctional upbringing, that I wasn't secure enough to feel safe to leave home. But maybe it is just inbred in me, and now inbred in my kids? Homebodies that feel most comforted at home and resist change at all costs, but will adapt if completely necessary?
Either way I've been doing a lot of praying that he makes this adjustment a bit easier than Taylor did, for his sake and ours. At this age, I think all any of us want for our kids is for them to just be happy. And it breaks my heart to see his personality and moods affected this way.
If any of you have similar sob stories, especially as it relates to boys, I'd love to hear them. I had breakfast with Sarah yesterday and she told me her son's teacher said that a boy cries the most in Kinder and 1st grade than in any other time in their life. I sadly want that to be true so that I know his emotional tug of war is somewhat in the realm of "normal". As a woman, I can understand more of where my girl is coming from when she cries, but I honestly feel so helpless when I see my son cry over sadness like this.
Thanks so much for listening guys. And again, any feedback, advice or commiseration that you'd like to share, I'm all ears :)