The Most Wonderful? Time of the Year

Next week, Sammy starts kindergarten. Clearly that’s not a surprise, given that it’s a rite of passage the vast majority of kids experience (save for homeschoolers, which, more power to you, but that’s not for me). He’s been excited the whole summer, with the occasional twitch of concern that quickly fades away.

I, however, am anxious, nervous, worried, and not a little bit terrified. You’d think I was the one starting school. And maybe I am. As a parent, that is. Do all parents feel this… weird when their firstborn heads inside an elementary school for the first time? It’s not like he hasn’t been in a school setting before; he’s been there for 3 years in some form or fashion. But I guess, in the back of my mind, I never thought of speech therapy and preschool as real school. There were no requirements before, no things you need to learn to pass on to the next grade, no report cards, no across the board curriculum to master. That stuff gets real, now.

I know I’m not the only parent who has read up on what kindergarten is like today and thought that this ain’t like any kindergarten I’ve even seen before. I’ve heard tales of nightly homework. Really? Please say that’s not the case because I’m so not ready to be chasing after that every day. It just seems like kids today have to be reading Shakespeare to make it into the first grade these days. I’m just hoping Professor Google is a little bit like his cousin, Dr. Google, in the authenticity of his information, youknowwhatImean?

It doesn’t help that my old academic perfectionism and self-competition (who needs to make comparisons to other people when I’m a complete package of self-sabotage?) seems to be rearing its ugly head. I’m remembering just how stressed the school environment made me, and I don’t want to transfer that onto my son. It would be a slippery slope to start setting the bar way up high, making both of us miserable through every grade and course. Yes, I want him to do his best. Yes, I want him to learn everything he can, and enjoy as much of the process as possible. And no, I don’t want to be thinking of more, better, faster. It’s not fair to either of us. But I know I have a history of going there with myself, so I have to be extra vigilant not to project that onto my kids. The bottom line, my deepest desire is that he absorb everything he can and have fun at the same time. A veritable Kindergarten SpongeBob.

Plus, I’m determined not to be a deadbeat school mom, so I really want the teacher to like me.

This is new territory for the both of us. And surely we'll get the lay of the land quickly. But I think it’s fairly clear who’s going to handle it better. I think it’s also fairly clear who’ll be the one sniffling back tears on Monday morning.

There also may or may not be a medicinal donut run that day.