First Day of Kindergarten

Today we left the nap roll at home, packed up his brand new backpack, and took Micah to his first day of kindergarten.

Because he doesn't turn 5 until September 12, he isn't allowed to attend kindergarten at the public school. Alabama is totally inflexible on that cutoff, so our only options were to have him repeat Pre-K or to do private Kindergarten/First Grade at his current preschool. Back in January, we asked his Pre-K teacher about having him repeat and she was pretty emphatic that NO, no he needs to move on. Her opinion hadn't changed by the time May rolled around, so here we are.

He's in a class with nine other children, some of whom are first graders and some of whom are kindergartners. He only knows one child, although he's met the teacher outside of school a few times. It's a straight-up for-real kindergarten class, with writing and math and weekly homework. They have pet geckos, assigned show-n-tell days, and are rewarded for good behavior with pennies. There's a bathroom pass, and he has to walk across the hall to use a full-size toilet (I foresee several accidents until he starts remembering to go pee BEFORE it's an emergency). He has work binders that we decorated with pictures of diesel locomotives. He'll be doing projects and taking field trips. They're throwing around terms like Fry words and DIBLES (both of which I had to google). It's kindergarten!

We've received a lot of well-meaning but critical commentary on the whole thing, none of which takes into account that 1) he only misses the cutoff by 12 days and 2) both his father and I were 4-year-old kindergartners, so we're well aware of the potential concerns and difficulties. We're both pretty confident that he's going to be fine. And once he starts reading...oh man, this kid is going to have a blast.

I'm very excited for him, but (like so many other parents this morning) I'm struggling a little with the feeling that time is going by too fast. Part of me wanted to keep him behind, just to keep him small a little while longer, just one more year. But that wouldn't be right for him, so this morning I smiled and took his picture and cheered him on.

Then I tucked his bear lovey into his backpack pocket, because he wanted Lubby there today so he could "talk to him a little bit about kindergarten." And it was a nice reminder that he's not grown up yet. There's still time to be little.

Flashback

9 Days:

2 Years:

Around the middle of July we finally took the side off Aerin's crib, officially turning it into a toddler bed. Last week, I caught her climbing up her changing table, so we immediately moved it out of the room and replaced it with a low shelf for her toys and books. She's definitely not a baby anymore.

Looking up

Last night, at Rosie’s, Aerin got her foot caught in her chair.

“Hep me! Hep me! My foo! Hep my foo tuck!”

I immediately unhooked her foot where she’d gotten it wedged between the bars, and she went back to eating.

“She told us!” I said to Todd. “She didn’t scream. She didn’t come unglued. She TOLD us!”

This is a huge turning point. Only a few weeks ago, getting her foot caught would have escalated into an all-out screaming fit faster than we could figure out what was wrong. When the girl is happy, everyone in the room knows; she is LOUD in her happiness. When she is hurt or angry, everyone within a five-block radius hears about it.

Things have been difficult with Aerin, that’s no secret. Some days it seems like we butt heads every five minutes, and the constant conflict has been so incredibly draining. Her temper, her stubbornness, and her sheer volatility are more than a match for me, and I admit I am not the best mother for a child like her. She needs someone with an even temper, the patience of a saint, considerable free time, and maybe more than a touch of hearing loss, NONE OF WHICH I HAVE. (Although give her another few months, and she’ll take care of the hearing loss.)

Last night, when she told us, clearly, what was wrong and what she needed, it was like the sun peeking out after months of storms. “Oh my god,” I thought, “we might have an actual human being here.” Suddenly, I feel like we might make it. It’s not over, these hard times, but maybe, just maybe, it’s about to get a little better.