Sunday, August 22, 2010

Tears in my pot pie

Late yesterday afternoon on First Day of Kindergarten Eve, a dear friend sent me a prayer for Duncan. Reading it caused those great big squirty tears to shoot out of my eyes and into the pot pie I was making for dinner.

I had been doing okay up until that point. Then I started thinking about all of the people that he could come into contact with, over which Iain and I have no control. In preschool, he was so easily accessible to us. I could stop by, enter the code, walk in the hallway and to his classroom. I could email his teachers, pick up the phone and call anyone up there and they knew me, and more importantly, they knew my child. I could pick him up early, I could keep him home. Alot of control. Kindergarten? Not so much.

When we dropped him off today, we were able to walk him all the way to his class but tomorrow it's bye-bye at the are on your own, baby chick. And it's killing me. I know it's time. I know he's old enough. Don't I? He seems so small in that big school with all those older kids...and I feel so out of touch with the powers that be at that school. And I'll save my thoughts about the other moms and dads...and grandparents....for another post. Do I sound like a big Debbie Downer? Well, yes, perhaps I do. Give me my moment.


  1. Big hugs. The nice thing about Maya and Dominic's school is the ability to visit quite regularly (although the teacher requires 24 hrs notice). Is that a possibility for Duncan's school? It's only the beginning; as you get to know the staff and the school things will ease up a little. As Duncan gets more comfortable, you will too. Maybe volunteer to be a classroom volunteer (I know our kindergarten kids needed moms to come in to supervise lunch, read to the students, help with crafts. With the twins I know you're restricted a little but maybe something can be worked out. You're a good Mom and you've taught Duncan well. He's armed with everything he needs (an engaging spirit, a curious mind and the knowledge that you'll always be waiting for him when he gets home). This week, month, year ... will get better. Thinking about you all.

  2. Big hug, Christie! I promise it will get easier. You are such a good mommy.