I’m pretty sure I over-thought this epically.
You see, I thought of this as my opportunity to determine, or develop, what type of mom I’d like to be, or how I was perceived as a mom to other people. I may be a basket case and stupendously unorganized, but at least I can give the illusion that I am with it and totally in control.
We went to Sebastian’s school this morning to meet his teachers and see where he’ll be learning. I’d been worrying and stressing about it because that’s what I do. I wanted to make a good impression myself. In the past I haven’t taken the time to make sure that I’m not just presentable, but also put together, like I made an effort. I don’t want my kids to be embarrassed by me, though, so when going to functions that will involve other parents and children I don’t want to rock my normal, hobo-chic style.
And so I worried. I painted my toe nails two different times because the first color I chose seemed too loud for a catholic preschool. (Of course I ended up wearing closed-toe shoes but at least I knew that my toe nails were respectable.)
I changed my clothes four times this morning, having difficulty deciding between jeans or dress pants or a dress. I went with the dress and even accessorized, which is something I struggle with. Yes, I did have to post pictures of myself on facebook and ask for input but at least I made the effort.
Many of you reading probably think that I’m nuts and you’re right. But I’m glad I went to the trouble. Since I felt like I was proper that ran over into how I carried myself. If I look like I know what I’m doing no one will know that I’m one crack in my armor away from melting into a giant puddle of tears because MY BABY IS GOING TO SCHOOL! I spent most of the time we were there trying to ignore the burning behind my eyes and the shortness of breath that usually signifies a coming breakdown.
And Sebastian was fine. We did tell him ahead of time that at school he’d have to be ‘Sebastian’ instead of ‘Baby Jaguar.’ When his teacher asked him his name he started to say ‘Baby Jaguar’ then said ‘No, just Sebastian.’ He has, within the past hour, changed his name to Pingu so we’ll see if he remembers who he’s supposed to be on Thursday.
He stayed close to us for about 30 seconds, then saw a train table and had no need for the uncool parents anymore. And he found another boy who seemed to love trains just as much as he did and they hit it off, crashing and smashing the poor little freight cars at will.
And other than a little girl who stuck her tongue out at him for walking too close to the stove she was playing with, I think it went well.
|It's hard to take a good picture of an excited Sebastian |
who WILL NOT STAND STILL BECAUSE LOOK AT
MY NEW SCHOOL!!
It’s kind of just dawning on me that he’ll be away from me for a few hours two days a week. This past year we’ve spent at home together has been both awesome and tortuous (I mean that lovingly). And it will be hard for me to let him go. But he’s not much of a mama’s boy and is a social guy, so he really needs more than I can give him. He needs some friends and he needs to play and he needs structured learning.
I will most definitely enjoy a few hours that I have to only worry about taking care of one child. But I think I may be lost for the first few times he’s away.
And so I didn’t cry, but I wanted to.