Kindergarten: It's not for everyone

I might be delusional, but apparently, there are kids who do not love kindergarten.  Who knew?!?  The good news is that I am sure that there are none of these kids in my class.  The bad news?  There is definitely one in my house.

Yup.  You guessed it.  Ben is not a big fan.  The mornings are rough.  He cries as he makes his lunch.  He clings to me as I try to head out the door to work.  Every once in a while he announces that he's not actually going.  He says he has fun at school.  I hear bits and pieces about what he does at school, but he maintains that he does not like it.  I think it's just too long of a day for him.  And the mornings are hard because even though he is fine at school (according to my spy, his sister) looking down the barrel of six and a half hours is just too much.  And the teacher in me knows he is fine, but the momma in me?  She's a wreck.  And it's all I can do to peel him off me and kiss him goodbye before I start crying with him.

One evening this week, I asked him how school was and all he said was, "Long."  By the time I get home at 4:15, the fact that his day was too long for him is abundantly clear.  The tears usually start just before dinner.  Most of the time because of some unreasonable request on my part.  Like to put his bike in the garage, rather than behind my car.  Or to actually sit in his chair while he is eating. 

Here's how things went down on Wednesday.

Me:  Here's your delicious dinner of homemade taco soup and some saltines.
Ben: I ate 5 crackers.  Can I have more?
Me: Sure.  As soon as you eat your soup.
Ben: Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.  It's too muuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuch.  I can't eat all thaaaaaaaaaaaaat.
Me:  That's fine.  You don't have to eat anything you don't want to.
Ben: But I'm hungreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

After this exact same conversation 2 more times, he disappeared upstairs.  Honestly, I was just so glad that the cracker convo was over that I didn't even really notice until he came downstairs in his jammies with his blanket.

"Mommmmmmmeeeeeeeeee.  Snuggle meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee."  And then he crawled up on my lap for a nice long snuggle (which I secretly love).  By 6:20 I was tucking him into bed.

Thursday morning was a little bit better.  There were no tears but he declared that it was the best day of the week because once it was over he wouldn't have to go for three whole days.  Sounds like progress to me!  Before dinner he even let it slip that he loved school.  Woo hoo!! 

And then we had the same exact dinner scenario as the night before, except for rice and meatballs instead of soup and crackers. 


And again, he was crying on the couch.

So we have established that kindergarten just isn't Ben's thing.  I usually tell concerned parents that September is hard on kids, but after the first month they tend to adjust and get used to the schedule and routines.  Well, September's dunzo.  Here's hoping my own kid doesn't prove me wrong on Monday.

My Worst Nightmare

I hate junk.  Call them what you will, knick knacks, Tchotchkes, decorations, collections...it's all junk to me.  And there is nothing I like less.  Junk makes its way into my house on occasion, birthday party favors, freebies from the bank, decorations off the tops of cupcakes, happy meal toys, junk mail, treasure from school...been there, done that.  But here's my little secret.  That stuff doesn't stand a chance in my house because I throw it away as soon as the rightful owner dares to put it down.  I know.  I know.  It's bad for the environment.  And they aren't mine to throw away.  I'm terrible.  I can live with that.  But I can't live with junk.  Clutter makes me anxious so everything I have, serves a purpose.  Except my husband.  KIDDING!!!  Of course he serves a purpose.  Who else would take out the massive amounts of garbage?  Kidding again.  I do that.  Still kidding.  (Mostly...)

Have you seen the show "Hoarders"?  That's the stuff nightmares are made of.  I get panicky when I can't see part of my counter top and these people haven't seen their entire floor in decades.  I get shivers just thinking about it.  Well imagine my horror when I discovered that my own daughter (yes, the one who lives for cleaning the house) is well on her way to her own episode on A&E.  She would keep EVERYTHING if I let her and one look at her room proves that she has slipped some things by my strict entrance (to the house) requirements.

Here is the top of her dresser.  From what I can identify, I see a collection of tags from her new school clothes, a bracelet, a Sillyband, a tub of colorful rocks (with a magic wand inside) and a paper house full of puff balls that she made for a tiny puppy.  How any of those things have survived this long, I will never know.

And here is a look at her "jewerly".  Not that she can wear any of it since it is so tangled.

Oh, and more rocks.  This girl loves her rocks.  Which surprisingly, are the thing that I have the least problem with.

Her nightstand is no better than her dresser.  Notice another rock...

 

The thing about her is that she won't notice or care when I eventually do get a chance to clean out all of her junk (which I'm thinking I might do tonight while she is sleeping), but that almost makes it more puzzling as to why she has so much stuff that she has no attachment to. 

 

 One night, more than a year ago, I looked around the room as I tucked her into bed and announced that the next day we would be cleaning up.  She asked, "Why do you always want me to put things away?"  I said, "Too bad for you, but you got stuck with a momma who doesn't like junk just sitting around."  She didn't skip a beat when she said, "Too bad for you, but you got stuck with a girl who does."  And that, my friends, is why I love that kid.  No matter how much junk she has.

True Confessions of a Ridiculously Hysterical Mother

 

Orientation was the beginning of the end.  It was about a week ago and the panic had just begun to set in.  It started with butterflies in my tummy and led to me crying hysterically for four straight hours after my first experience as a kindergarten parent.  The kids were so excited about starting school but every time I thought about it I had to choke back sobs.  My eyes well up just thinking about it now.  I could barely get through a conversation (about anything) without tears running down my face.  I am a disaster! 

 

Not that this is news to any of you.  It is probably payback for all of the years I spent as a kid making fun of my mom for crying at toothpaste commercials. 

 

I was able to pull myself together the following day to take the kids to meet their teacher.  They got all dressed in school clothes

 and skipped a mile down the road to school. 

 When they got there they couldn't have been happier to be in the same class as their cousin, Eliana.

 After "Meet the Teacher", it was seven excruciating days until the first day of school. 

 

Last night, before they laid out their new school clothes, they carbo loaded to get ready for the big day

 

And reviewed the morning plans with me.  Four times.

 

B: "Mamma, when we wake up if you are making your lunch you can just keep making it while we get dressed and then can you get a big bowl and pour me as much cereal as I need to eat but don't put the milk in it just put it in a cup so it doesn't get soggy and then when I come downstairs you can zip my sweatshirt before breakfast or after breakfast, whatever works best for you."

 

In the morning, they were quick to get dressed in their new clothes and were excited to find their traditional first day of school cake.  And yes.  Cake for breakfast on the first day of school is a tradition.  Sue me.

 After breakfast, they got to work making their lunches.  Yes.  I make my kids make their own lunch.  Why?  Because they can.  And I'm busy.  They have a menu of items available to them and pick things from four areas so that they get a wellish balanced meal.

 

Ben decided to go with ham and mustard on a pita today.

 And Abby sliced some cheese

 to put on her sandwich.

 Then she reviewed the menu

 and decided to add some apples

 Meanwhile, Ben packed himself some peas.

 It took a bit of time, but they did a great job and were so proud!

 

 

When it was time to get shoes on, it was a team effort. 

 

 Then out to the front porch for our first day photos

 

 

 And then it was off to the bus.

 

 

 Just kidding.  They didn't ride the bus.  This is like the picture you take at the wedding of the bride pretending to throw the bouquet.  They turned around and got in the car.

 

Once at school, Ben and Abby, I mean Abigail (which is apparently her school name), found their table

 and got right to work.

 When it was time to say goodbye they gave us a kiss and went right back to work.  Me on the other hand?  Well, at least I almost made it out the door of the classroom before I started crying.  Don't worry.  I don't think the kids saw me.  The PTA moms might have.  But they meet at 9:10 on Wednesdays so I guess I don't have to worry about seeing them again.  I cried some more on my way to work and throughout the day I couldn't stop thinking about them and wondering what they were doing.  I knew they were probably having fun, but were they tired?  Did they miss me?  (Come to find out there was no need to worry about that one.  Abby told me, "a couple times I was having so much fun I forgot about you!")  I couldn't wait to get home and hear all about their day.

 

Robbie was there to meet them when they got off the bus (which, by the way, was their favorite part of the day!)

 As I listened to them tag team the story of their day, I could tell that they had had a great day and that they were going to have a great year.  But when I put them to bed, I couldn't help but cry as I wondered where in the world five and a half years went.  I am so proud of the kids that they are and so happy that they are in school but I'm pretty sure this picture couldn't have been taken more than about a year and a half ago...

 and today my babies are not babies anymore...

 

 I'm thinking that by Monday (or at the very latest, Christmas break) I will have my emotions about this situation under control.  Because believe me I know this is ridiculous.