Angst and Wisdom

We've done this before.  We are experienced professionals.   We are in the same school as we were last year (Yea! Montessori).  We even have one of the same teachers as last year (Yea! Ms. Ruthie).  So how did this cheery and hopeful first-day-of-school morning turn into the  afternoon that I fled the school in shame?

Need more experience.

Next year, we will get it right.  For sure.

The first day of school in our district is orientation day for the little kids.  Parents go along to school with their littles to fill out paperwork, meet their teachers, drop off their school supplies.  No biggie.  I could do that alone.  Some strategic Cheerios, a bottle, some toys and a baby blanket stashed in the diaper bag and our easy, breezy, unflappable third child would rest comfortably in her stroller while the rest of us did what needed to be done.  No need for Kevin to miss a day of work.

Wrong.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

We did well for most of the morning, even treading far beyond the normal nap hour.  But sometime between I've had only a 30 minute interrupted nap today and When the grandma are you planning to feed me lunch? our girl lost her mind.  Poor Maggie.  You are so relied on to be ever flexible, ever tolerant, and ever cheerful that we sometimes forget.  You are one.  Only one.  One year olds have limits.  And in the non-air conditioned school full of toys that you can't play with and stairs that you can't climb up and down, it's only rational that you reached yours.  We all did.

So, the shame.  We did not meet or greet Noah's new teacher, Ms. Sue.  Although she will undoubtedly remember us.  There was no subtlety about the baby's requests to be done with all the orientation nonsense by the time it was Ms. Sue's turn to introduce herself.  Oy.  We will really have to wow her when it's our turn to bring the (peanut-free AND gluten-free) snack to class.

The good news.  Even though today was a total parenting FAIL, the siblings?  They shined.  Just when I am starting to feel like a referee more than a mother, putting one child or the another in the naughty spot for hitting, spitting, shoving or kicking, they do something so kind for one another that it makes me cry.

Greta has been apprehensive about school.  To the point of tears, she has told us she doesn't want to go.  This is completely unexpected.  Greta is the one who meets every kid at the park.  Who pets every dog that crosses her path.  Who introduces herself to new people with her full name, favorite color and foods she dislikes.  We have tried to talk to her about it, with limited success in calming her fears.  Know who nailed it?  Noah.  Brother spent last night and this morning talking to her in that everything is going to be OK tone that I've never heard from him before.  He promised her that she would have so much fun.  That he would see her at every recess and that they would play together.  He had been to that scary place called a New School, and he knew just how she felt.  Don't worry, Greta, he told her this morning, I will ask my teacher if I can come over to your class and give you a hug if you feel shy.  I'm all choked up.

Cheers to siblings.  Here they are making themselves presentable before the first day.  Considering how our first impressions went today, this may have been a waste of time.  We've got the next nine months to get it right.