One would think that a "tough" Mommy who takes karate would be able to handle a little Kindergarten orientation without being reduced to tears. For a stay at home Mom who has been with her daughter almost every single day since the day she arrived on this Earth, orientation is rough. In fact, I know it was harder on me than it was on Big I.
Orientation started out just fine. Big I sat with me in the auditorium and we listened to the principal talk for a while. I happened to take a look at the schedule for the morning and noticed that the kids would be going off to meet the other kids and teachers. I whispered to Big I what the plan was and she looked at me with apprehensive eyes. I told her it would be o.k. and that I wasn't leaving the building and would be there to get her in just a little while. She settled in beside me again. I thought she'd be with me for a bit longer, but all of a sudden they called for the kids.
Most kids willingly ran off to line up for the trek to the classroom. There were a few stragglers who seemed to suddenly develop a gravitational pull to their mothers legs. There were a few tears and some whining. None of that came from Big I. When it was time, she stood up, took a deep breath, and then killed me. She leaned towards me, gave me a hug, kissed me on the cheek and said simply, "Bye Mommy." I instantly teared up and found myself choking back the tears. My eyes were flooded and I sat there swallowing profusely to keep them at bay. My mantra became, "She can NOT see ME cry." I repeated it at least 20 times. My eyes welled, but they did not spill. As the kids finished lining up, most of them faced forward. But Big I turned around, smiled at me and waved.
I don't think I've ever been so proud of Big I and of myself. Since the day I brought this little girl into the world, there were people who judged the way I was raising her. Family bed? Bad idea. Guess what? It worked for us and she's a fabulous sleeper. "No pre-school? Is she crazy? Her child will be socially behind." My Big I is one of the most socially mature 5-year olds I know. Today proved that. Today was like an affirmation that I've done a good job with her.
Back in the classroom, Big I approached a little girl who was playing with some blocks. She started to play with her. The little girl said something about how she was playing with them. Instead of getting upset with the girl who was lacking sharing skills, Big I ignored her and instead took the high road. She introduced herself and asked the girl what her name was. She then started playing with her.
At another point during the orientation, the kids were listening to a story. Two little boys were moving around and getting in her way. So, she moved away from them, but into the space of two little girls who didn't feel like sharing their space. They told her so. She explained to them that she was moving over because she didn't have any room. Had it been me? At her age? I would have been sobbing in a corner.
At this age? I spent most of the refreshment time fidgeting and counting the minutes until I could go get my daughter. I felt like an outcast, not knowing any of the other parents who were already pretty familiar with each other. I counted minutes, and hoped that she was having a better experience than I was.
When I went to the classroom to pick her up after 45 minutes (that felt like an absolute eternity), she was sitting at a desk coloring and writing her name by herself. She was thrilled with her drawing, and I was thrilled to see that she wasn't crying. She then told me about the two little girls who told her to "go away." "WHERE ARE THEY?" I whispered to her as I scanned the room for the little brats. She didn't even remember what they looked like.
As we were leaving she said, "I think it was kind of fun." She quickly made sure after that statement that she didn't have to go back for a while. I assured her. She then said, "I don't think the kids liked me." Can I just tell you the million ways my heart broke when she said that?
People can spit on me. They can call me names. They can throw things at me or tell me to "go away." They can even send me hate mail or write rude comments meant to hurt my feelings. I learned today, that nothing anyone can do to me can even begin to compare to the physical pain that I experienced when I saw that my daughter's feelings were hurt. It was so visceral, so deep and sharp that it made me feel physically sick. I felt emotionally spent the entire day.
After we got home and Lil C was napping, I held Big I on my lap, rocked her, and told her that everyone deals with new situations differently. Not everyone can walk up to someone they don't know and introduce themselves the way that she did. I told her that some kids will put up a wall, so to speak, and act mean before they act nice. I told her that some of the kids will already know each other and therefore think they only need that one friend. I told her that anyone who chooses not to be friends with her is missing out BIG TIME on spending time with a great, sweet, bright, fun, wonderful person that she has become.
Tonight my husband asked her if the girls hurt her feelings, and do you know what she said? "Actually Daddy, it made me a little mad. They weren't very nice." When my husband asked her why she didn't tell the boys to move, she said "I didn't want to hurt their feelings."
I think that Big I is going to be just fine at school. For me, it's going to take some serious time to get used to it (and a whole boat load of tissues).
