Nevermind all this talk about politics and Miley Cyrus' new haircut; my kid started kindergarten today. That's what needs to be talked about. I should also probably talk about how there was an hour long process of events post-drop-off that had to occur before I finally had that weepy mother's moment (which I hadn't even planned on doing anyway). Both he and I were so ready for school to start after five years of having him all to myself. So ready. But it turns out that teary-eyed moment had just been biding it's time, waiting for me to fully realize a few things. And rather than finding it all emotionally silly, I felt it was more a rite of passage, one that every mother will have sooner or later. Bless her ever-loving soppy sappy heart.
Like I said though, I was slow to realize all this. I had quietly peeked through the classroom door with other parents as the teacher instructed the children to find the seat with their name on it. And my Bosco meandered around looking. I knew he could identify his name no problem, but somehow he was the last one left standing and he wouldn't sit down in the only empty seat left which meant it must not have had his name on it. The anxiety rose up inside of me as I saw him stand there so small and innocent and I was flooded with memories from my own elementary days. Bobby not letting me have a turn on the swings or that dang dodge ball etc. etc. Far more self conscious than Bosco is, I would have really hated this turn of events, but it didn't even seem to phase him. He just had a patient look of "whatever" on his face (he gets this from his father I can only assume). So I stood there out of his view and felt the anxiety for him. Well, someone had to right? Where's my seat teacher! What a whackadoo am I. The word "injustice" started flashing across my brain, like it would for any normal-over protective-living vicariously-mother. Eventually the teacher pointed out to a girl that she had taken the wrong seat and Bosco finally got situated. But I was done for. Right then and there I realized that I was now on a new journey for the sake of my and my children's sanity. The journey known as "chilling out." Brought to you by the letters O and K. And C-R-A-Z-Y. And this journey is pretty much now never-ending because I'm officially sending my child out into the world where I will not be with him every second of the day and these sorts of things both important and unimportant will happen to him all the time. Sometimes he'll get left out. Sometimes his jokes won't go over so well because not everyone loves a joke that doesn't make sense. Sometimes people will say mean things to him. Sometimes things won't work out right for him and he'll have to be there on his own in that moment, dealing with it. Oh my gosh he's going to have to deal with things without me sometimes! The thought of that really does just punch me in the gut and leave me feeling a little sickish. And obviously this journey particularly stinks because no parent wants to see their child without a seat so to speak. Or called carrot-top so to speak. Ahem. But so it is.
Then when I got home with no Bosco by my side and Bubba sitting there playing quietly without his brother I realized I was now on yet another journey called "You think you feel sad right now, just wait until he moves out."
Then I realized I was really tired and my clothes were not as comfortable as I would have them be but that I was going to have to do this, wake up earlier every morning for the next bazillion years and get dressed in real clothes to take him to school, like I was the one in school all over again. Oy.
So yes for all these reasons, today I had my rite of passage into starting that years-long arduous process of letting go of a child I grew inside of me and birthed into this world, so he can grow up and get hairy and hormonal and eventually become a man, even an amazing man. And I'll tell you what, I have a great big ol' headache.