While driving in the car a few weeks back, Warren asked, “Mom, why do you and Dad and Maddie have to stay in that little house?”
I was racking my brain trying to figure out where he was going with that.
“What do you mean?” I asked after coming up empty.
“I mean at my new school. You said you’d have to go in that special house.”
Aha! A plausible connection. I laughed so hard.
“You mean when I told you that we’d be going to your school’s open house in a few weeks?” I clarified. I then explained the purpose of our upcoming date to view the school where Warren will attend kindergarten next fall. He seemed relieved.
Tonight was the night of the open house. I am feeling mixed emotions. This kid is ready to explore and learn and grow. He is excited to investigate bugs and play new musical instruments and build grander Lego sets than what he can do at home. And I am thrilled for him to be able to do it all.
But I am so tender, as well. My sweet little boy will be starting a life of his own come August. He is both eager and timid at the same time and it makes me a little weepy to know that he’ll be on his own for so much of the day.
This is a bittersweet time for both of us. Have I taught him all he needs to know? What will my day be like without him asking questions as I prepare a meal or accompanying me to the grocery store? He wonders if he’ll be missed by Maddie and me while he’s gone even as he’s planning what activities he’ll do on the playground.
A “Welcome to Kindergarten” packet contained a booklet that made me pause. The question, “How can I help my child at home?” had a list of useful answers that struck a chord. One in particular was especially poignant. Realize that your child is a gift more important than your job, a clean house, or anything you could achieve in your lifetime.
I know this, but does he? Do I show him enough? When he runs off to join his class on the first day of school will he look back at me with confidence because I have given him that foundation?
It is my prayer. And it’s my duty to make sure that the next four months reflect that.