The Waiting Is The Hardest Part

It was the waiting that destroyed things this morning. On the first morning of school, parents are encouraged to walk their children to their classrooms. And as I wrote yesterday, things went okay with Samuel, probably because he knows by now how these things work. Saying goodbye to Avery yesterday did not go well though. In every childhood education class I've ever taken, and in every book or piece of advise given from early childhood specialists, when it comes to leaving your child in the care of someone else, the best advise that always seems to be given is to make your goodbyes fast; say your goodbyes, give your child a hug and a kiss, and then make a swift exit. Yesterday, that's what I tried to do with Avery, but then her teacher asked me to sit and stay a while... I should have politely declined her invitation, but I sat down. Which, as I expected, made Avery's fit even worse when I did leave a few minutes later.

So, after school yesterday I talked to Avery about it. I explained to her that on the 2nd day of school, I would need to take her and Samuel into the gym to wait for their teachers. This is how their school does the morning drop off. You can either pull up to the curb of the school where a teacher is waiting to open your car door (doesn't it sound so nice?) and let your children walk into the gym by themselves, or you can park, get out of your car, and walk with them to the gym. And since I know how my children are, I park and walk with them to the gym, where they are put into lines with their classmates to wait for their teachers to come get them and take them to their classes. At least, that's how it's supposed to work.

This morning, I parked the car and walked the kids into the gym, and Samuel walked off without even saying goodbye to me, and sat down in his line. :-( I still can't get over what a big kid he is sometimes!

But there was poor Avery, crying and holding my hand. She did not want to sit in her line. And since I remembered how much Samuel struggled with this drop off process last year, I offered to stand along the wall of the gym with Avery (like I did with Samuel last year), and wait for her teacher to come and get her. I would give her a big hug and a kiss and then she would take her teacher's hand. This worked like a charm with Samuel for the first few weeks of school. We did this every morning for around 6 weeks, until he became comfortable with the drop off routine, and he started sitting in line in the gym with his classmates. I was confident that this would work with Avery too. She reluctantly agreed to the plan. And so we stood there and waited, and waited, and waited for her teacher. And the longer we waited, the more intense and loud her sobbing became. Snot was pouring out of her nose, and her eyes were puffy and red. As I tried (and failed) to calm her down, other parents and teachers started to offer their help. And while I adore my daughter and sincerely appreciate other adults stepping in and trying to help, the attention seemed to make Avery's sobbing even worse. Finally, Avery's teacher arrived and tried to take Avery from me, but Avery had a bear hug grip around one of my thighs. She was not letting go. "No, I don't want to go to school. I hate school. I don't like it here. I'm just shy and I want to stay home." I held back the tears though, and the more I tried to reason with Avery, the tighter her grasp became. I looked at her teacher and told her that this was not how I wanted to leave my child. I could not leave her that way. Her teacher told me that I could walk her to class, but today was the final day I would be allowed to do that.

And so we walked, with me trying to push Isaac in his stroller with one hand, and trying to pry Avery off of my leg with my free hand. We walked and got to her classroom, where I told Avery that we simply could not say goodbye that way. I did not want to start my day like that, and I suspected that she did not want to start her day like that either. She eventually did calm down and I left her in the arms of her teacher. As I walked off, I could hear that she was still crying, and as I turned the corner, I started crying too.

It was heartbreaking. What else can I say?

I pulled myself together when I saw Samuel coming around the corner with his classmates, heading for his classroom. I waved to him and he smiled and waved back at me. His teacher stopped me and told me that Samuel had a great first day of school. He responded to her questions, he interacted with other children at group time, and he seemed to respond really well to her verbal instructions. I had recommended at the "Meet The Teacher" night that she should tell Samuel a few minutes beforehand when they were going to change activities. She said doing that seemed to really help Samuel in transition times, and she was thankful for the piece of advise. She also told me that they drew family portraits yesterday in class, and Samuel drew me, Hector, himself and Avery. And when he turned in his drawing, his teacher asked him if he had a baby brother at home. Samuel shook his head no. Then the teacher asked him if he had any pets, maybe a dog or a cat that he wanted to add to his drawing. Again, he shook his head no. I laughed and told his teacher that in fact, Samuel does have a baby brother (right here in the stroller), as well as 2 dogs and 1 cat. But, I told her, he doesn't really seem to care for the animals all that much. She laughed and said that at least we both know now that Samuel holds his baby brother in the same regard as the dogs and cat... Poor Isaac!

I left the school feeling relieved. Seeing how far Samuel has come in school reminded me of how he started Kindergarten. This time last year, I was feeling the same way. Samuel has come a long way! Knowing this fact, I am reassured when I think about Avery. I know that she will be okay too. And more than likely, 4 years down the road, I will be reminded of this time in the life of our family, and hopefully I will be able to laugh as I am prying Isaac off my thigh and leaving him in the arms of his Kindergarten teacher.