New Year’s Eve in September
Last night after I filled out my emergency contact cards and helped the boys pack up their school supplies in their new backpacks, I had a glass of wine and got a giddy feeling. It felt like it was New Year’s of the summer. Tomorrow everything would change: they would go back to school, be in a new class on a new floor, with new friends, wearing new Sketchers sneakers that light up. Everything was structured and set in place as the stripes on a plaid school uniform. But this morning what started off as bittersweet butterflies turned into a trembling feeling I couldn’t shake all day, even my elbows felt twitchy. I still had it at pick up when I was wishing that the ice cream man was also licensed to sell martinis.
What was behind my anxiety? I guess its the usual: change and knowing that they have to start all over. I went into Conrad’s first grade class, under the guise of “dropping off supplies” and knelt down by his desk. His teacher had given all the kids in his class a box of crayons, a tube of Elmer’s glue and pencil box with their names on them. The crayons struck me because last year his kindergarten teacher insisted that no one have their own box of crayons so they would learn how to share. The shiny individual box made me realize that this was first grade where serious school was about to begin and there was no time to wait for someone to be done with the lavender crayon.
Conrad got weepy and it was hard to leave which made us thirty minutes late getting Dashiell to his class. The tardiness was so flagrant, it was if I was announcing to his teacher that my older son was more important. How are you supposed to send two kids to two different schools at the same time? But Dash just wiggled into his class line that was headed out to the playground just as we arrived.
At pick up, Dash was happy and casual to see me on the playground. When I asked him how his day was he said, “Great.” Conrad looked rattled at pick up. He is going to be taken out of class for reading and writing to get extra help and when I asked him how it was he said it was weird and that he got confused at the end of the day about who is teacher was.
I was glad I had to work this afternoon, though I wasn’t as nearly as productive as I needed to be. I kept getting and distracted by hearing the boys fight in the yard. I suggested Jess feed them and she told me they ate like wolves and were beat and just texted me to ask if she should run the tub. It’s 6:30. They usually don’t have a bath till 8:00. But I’m happy to get them into bed. Today has been cool and summer seems very much over. I was so ready to be done with the sweaty and sticky routine-less days, but now I miss them as if a good friend has just moved away.
Will first days ever get easier?
