Traditionally, the day after Labor Day is when many children experience their first day of school. And for me, the day after Labor Day 2011 will always be the day my baby had his first day of school, too.
I will be the first to admit that the term “school” is somewhat of a stretch. It’s more like a daycare. Part-time. Appropriately named “Mother’s Day Out,” since it’s basically a child-care program for stay-at-home moms that need a mere 5 (or in some cases 10) hours a week in order to keep a hold on their sanity. For me, it’s going to take 10, but that’s neither here nor there. . .
I had such high hopes for how this day would begin.
I imagined Mark and I walking Lake down the hall at the church, only to have Lake overcome with excitement. He would point at the other kids, and skip down toward his classroom. When he noticed his name stenciled on a jumbo, construction paper pencil taped to the door, he would run in and give the teacher a high-five. Realizing he had forgotten to say good-bye, he would run back out, hug and kiss us, stand smiling for our “first-day of school family photo-op,” and wave bye-bye. And Mark and I would meander back to the car, smiling and holding hands, wondering how in the world we ended up with such a well-adjusted kid.
Reality check. Actually went a ‘lil something like this:
I carried Lake all the way down the hall to his classroom, because the sight of all the kids and parents going in every direction was a bit too much for him to handle. There was no skipping, but to be fair, he doesn’t know how to skip yet. Then when we got to his classroom, where I noticed his name on the door (because he can’t read, obviously) and we were not overcome with the feeling of excitement, but the feeling some would call fear. I swear you would’ve thought that the 6 children who had been dropped off before Lake were being tortured alive behind that oak door. The screaming, oh the screaming. . .I tried to keep my cool but if I could read Lake’s mind, he would’ve said: “What in the hell is going on in that room, and please explain why you are leaving me here!”
Just before Mark and I were ready to make a run for it (with Lake in tow!) Lake's teacher, Debra, slithered out the door.
“I’ll take him now,” she said anxiously.
But, but. . .we’d hadn’t even taken our family photo!
By this time, Lake had a total death grip on my neck, and was unwilling to unlock his legs from around my waist. Screaming with crocodile tears streaming down his little face, I turn to my husband for direction. He was now tearing-up with a look of horror on his face.
“I really need to shut the door now,” Debra said impatiently. I looked down and noticed a little guy trying to make a prison break from behind her.
Using all my might, I peeled Lake off my body and dropped him into Debra’s arms. Fighting back tears of my own, I reassured him he would do great and I would see him in just a few hours.
The door shut.
I lost it. Mark lost it. And instead of talking about how great our kid was, we cried silently all the way back to the car, broken-hearted.
That was 9 o’clock. By 10 o’clock, I was back in the quiet apartment by myself doing the only thing that could possibly make me feel better about being a selfish mother that just scarred her child for life. I sat in front of the computer and engaged in a little retail therapy.
Now to be fair, I did leave the apartment around 11 and made a Starbucks run and a quick stop at GapKids. Then I wandered through Central Market to pick up dinner for the week. While I should’ve deciding between chicken breasts and short-ribs, I found myself shamelessly smiling at every toddler-sized human being in sight and wishing I had Lake in the buggy laughing at the lobsters in the case. He loves the lobsters.
By 1 o’clock, I couldn’t stand the anticipation. I had butterflies in my stomach, and could not get to the church fast enough.
I arrived for the 2 o’clock pick-up at 1:45.
Debra opened the door, and through the crowd ahead, Lake spotted me. He shrieked with delight, and grinning from ear to ear, ran into my arms. My day may not have started as I imagined, but it sure did end like it.
And for those of you wondering. . .
Lake had only cried for a few minutes after we left and had a near-perfect first-day of school. Turns out we really do have a pretty well-adjusted kid :)
No comments:
Post a Comment