The day was circled in a bright, obnoxious red on my calendar. With each stroke of a passing day, I became more and more excited and more and more relieved. Monday night, I regressed back to my days of preparing for the first day of school. I took Davey’s bag, read and re-read through the handbook, created my list of additional wish list items, and organized my day around the first day of school. I went to bed early, a little excited, but also exhausted. And for the first time, my fitbit recorded I had a 100% sleep efficiency. Coincidental? I think not.
Tuesday morning, I arose early. I showered and dressed before waking the boys. Davey was awake, as usual, but quietly sitting in his bed reading books (as usual). I dressed him, had him help me get Henry ready, and then we trudged off downstairs all the while quizzing him on his phonics and the name of his new teacher.
We arrived at the school to a multitude of parents. Once again, I looked like the single parent as I was the only one chauffeuring my kids in without a husband at my side. Do these other dads not work or do they have such wonderfully, illustrious jobs that they can come and go as they please? Must be nice!
I walked Davey into his classroom and helped him hang his bag. He sat down at the table and began working a puzzle as I debated whether or not I should hang around. He obviously didn’t care what I did, but I wondered, just for a split second, as to how I looked to the other mothers who were kneeling down with their children, tussling their hair and doling out kissed. All I really wanted to do was vacate and much like from the Beatles “Hard Days Night” movie push open the door and scream, “I’m free!” Instead I controlled myself, smiled at his teacher and quietly walked out of the room.
What I should have done is immediately get in my car and leave, but I couldn’t. I was compelled to spy upon this room that had been set aside, a room where coffee and pastries were being served. A room where mothers got together with each other and sobbed about their little babies going to school. A room aptly titled, “Sip and Sob.” I stuck my head in and was shocked at the number of mothers who were consoling each other. Wow! I didn’t understand it and as I was about to turn to leave, I was stopped by a mother coming in who asked how I was holding up. I spouted out a statement I stole from my buddy, Shelley…”They should have a mimosas and muffins room to celebrate my survival being a stay at home mom with this kid.” Then I smiled and walked away.
I picked Davey up 3 hours later and listened to his excitement and adventures. Later that evening I received an email from his teacher. Davey was the only child who didn’t shed any tears and she has a feeling I’m the only mom from his class who didn’t partake in the Sip and Sob room. Go, Davey and Mommy!
Thursday progressed much the same way, but I have discovered a few things this week.
1. I’m possibly the only mother who doesn’t care if my child wears cute designer clothing. I put him in a t-shirt, shorts, and sneakers. Everyone else (BOTH days) were in their Sunday bests.
2. Make sure to arrive at the carline at 12:01, so as to not be the first one in line since the playground is alongside the carline and apparently, recess is the last event of the day. I eventually had to drive off and lose my spot in line because Davey wanted to hang on to the fence and have a conversation with me.
3. My son’s best friends are all girls.
4. I’m probably the only mother not on the PTA.
5. I’m the only mother who still has a baby pooch for a stomach.
6. I must do better at memorizing the names of the other moms especially since they all know mine and Davey’s.
7. I also need to work on my socialize skills and at least PRETEND to care about these other moms so I can develop more BFFs (insert sarcasm)
8. These other moms must have filthy rich husbands, or come from money because they drive the designer cars, wear the designer clothes, and seem to be able to afford plastic surgery.
9. Any worry or fear about Davey I may have had whether it be intellect, socialization, or attitude can and should be put to bed. My kid is awesome and has this innate knack to adapt to ANYTHING.