This week, my boys BOTH started preschool. One is in Pre-K and one is in a 2-year-old class. This is old hat for the older one, but when I signed my little one up for school last spring, I worried that he would scream and cry when I left him.
Instead, he surprised me by walking right in. Like, didn’t even look back except to wave in acknowledgement that mama is leaving.
I’ve been reading all of these back-to-school Facebook updates and blogs about kids sobbing and moms sobbing, and I gotta say…I don’t get it. I’ve been talking up school to these boys all summer, and even my 2-year-old knew it was something exciting like a party. And me? Well there was a slight tightening in my chest when I saw my little man turn his back, and I did wonder periodically WHAT he was doing (but not HOW he was doing). But mainly, I was just proud of my boys. Watching them grow and change is pleasure.
I love that my older son was excited to show his little brother off to his friends, and he offered to check on him during their open play time, when the classes meet on the play ground. And I was proud that my sometimes-mama’s-boy 2-year-old found his independent spine and walked in there, ready to learn and say Hi! to every single person he sees (literally).
So what did Mama do while they went to school? I whined on Facebook. No, not really.
I got my butt in gear early in the morning so I was dressed and presentable when I took the kids to school. I brought my laptop, and drove straight from the carpool line to a local coffee shop…lest I come home and crash on the couch with an episode of Nate Berkus…not that I’ve ever done that.
Then I worked for three hours while sipping a vanilla soy latte and letting society unfold around me.
And another day, I dragged all the tubs of baby clothes and boxes of forgotten junk out of our storage room and began to organize it all: Keep, Hoist onto Unsuspecting Family, Donate, Consign, Toss.
Um, I’m still working on it.
Meanwhile, I have more big plans for errands and getting a TB skin test (don’t ask)…but on most M/W/F mornings, you can find me sipping coffee at a local shop. I’ll be the mysterious orange laptop lady who always leaves at the stroke of 11:45 to rejoin the carpool line, cut peanut butter sandwiches into dinosaur shapes and piece together the boys’ random snippets of conversation to recreate some semblance of what they did while I was doing what I did.
One back-to-school down, 15 more years to go.