Dad got up early especially to see Connor off on his first day of school, and Mom came home early from work to be there when Connor came home.
Connor had a great first day! No tears, no anxiety, nothing but happiness and excitement all around (parents included).
The countdowns are over. At Pre-K, Connor’s had his last Treasure Day, his last Swim Day, his last Show and Tell, his last Bike Day, and his very last day of Pre-K. (Since he only goes to Pre-K four days a week, he’s had his last Daddy Day at home, too.) We’ve given the teachers their thank-you cards and gifts, I’ve turned in my keycard, and we’ve driven out of the parking lot for the last time.
At his new elementary school, we’ve attended Kickoff Day, Open House, and our Kindergarten Conference. He has his bus schedule, his lanyard (for that first nervous week of finding his classroom before school and finding his bus after school), and his three-ring binder that he’ll bring home every night. The vague feeling of an impending sea change has given way to the age-old newness and excitement of the first day of school.
I can completely understand how parents of kids who haven’t attended preschool (or even daycare) can turn into a blubbering mess when sending their child off on the school bus to new, solo adventures. Connor’s been spending time away from home for at least a few days a week ever since he was a toddler — he’s been attending the same daycare/preschool for over four years. That’s allowed us a slow transition from getting daily updates on paper about all the minutiae (and I mean all, including the contents of his diapers) to getting a general whiteboard update about what the class did that day. I’d still drop him off and pick him up in person every day, though, and talk to his teacher face to face at least once.
Technology has made it so that we’ll get a peek into the classroom via our iPhones, but that represents yet another transition for all of us. It’s all about our son becoming his own independent person — and, honestly, when I think about it, there are lots of things that I did or said or that happened to me at school over the years that my Mom never knew about.
It’s just fascinating to be on the other side of these memories.
No long shots of well-manicured gardens this month; I’ve been slacking on weeding and maintenance, as often happens at the end of summer. So, without additional comment, here is what’s blooming in my Zone 6 garden this month.
Here we are again.
I want to be excited and happy and full of anticipation as my son embarks on his new kindergarten adventure next week. I want to infuse his upcoming birthday party with joy and cupcakes. Instead, I’m ambivalent. Tired. Going through the motions. My gardens are full of weeds and grasses, my to-do list keeps growing, and I can find zero fucks to give.
Perversely, my fatigue and apathy drive me to stay awake later, and eat poorly, which results in a poor night’s sleep, which deepens the fatigue, which helps keep the cycle going. This has been the pattern for a few days now — last night, I didn’t turn the lights out until after 11:30pm, which is well past my bedtime. I just didn’t care.
I’m recognizing it. It’s like I’m seeing myself from outside myself, willing myself to bust out, cheering myself on. This evening, while my son was bathing, I busted out some crunches and push-ups in an effort to get myself in a better headspace (and out of my smartphone). It kind of worked. It did something.
My plan for tonight (having already gorged on carbohydrates of various kinds) is to finish writing this, wait for Connor to ask for a foot massage and to talk, take care of some nightly clean-up in the kitchen, maybe take a swag at my to-do list, then go into the sunroom (where I haven’t relaxed for weeks) and chill with a magazine. Then, I’ll head upstairs around dusk and spend some quality time cleansing my face and whatnot, to continue the relaxation theme. If I’m not too tired, maybe I’ll do ten minutes of yoga before tucking into my graphic novel cookbook for a bit, then turning out the lights just after ten. That should leave me rejuvenated for a conference with Connor’s kindergarten teacher in the morning.
I have a plan. This is a step in the right direction. Executing that plan will be the next step.
Yes, I have to consciously work toward treating myself right. Lizard Brain doesn’t know shit about treating me right, and if I don’t plan ahead, that’s who ends up driving the bus.
After months and months of talking about it, yesterday was the day when we finally hauled out the garden hose and hooked up the sprinkler for Connor to run through.
