Back to School

September 6, 2007 will be a momentous day for me. It marks the moment that I will officially go back to school. Though my name will not appear on any rolls or registers, I will begin a new academic career vicariously through my son. My carefree days of preschool are behind me now and I am forging forward into Kindergarten. While I know that the academic rigors of Kindergarten are less than a cerebral challenge for me personally, my child will be embarking on a completely new path of learning and I will need to navigate those waters at his side. It shouldn't seem so daunting, but alas there are so many things I need to learn myself.
I have a bundle of forms that I need to fill out ranging in topic from milk money (do we order yearly or monthly?) to PTA interests (do Alan and I both pay dues and join, or just me?) to fundraising items (do I want to display my school pride with a car magnet?). There is so much here to consider, my head is swimming with decisions to be made.
Then there is the anticipation of an academic year to come, during which Ethan will be faced with learning to read, continuing to work on his writing, and fine-tuning his social skills which he will need in order to bond with kids he has never met before. Fortunately, our greatest anxiety has been met with a blessing in the form of his best friend being placed in his class. In addition to his in vivo version of a safety blanket (his best buddy) he will have at least 3 other kids in his class that he knows from preschool, perhaps even more. It has given me great comfort to know that he will have familiar faces around him creating a cushion as he transitions into a more mature learning environment. I am also comforted by the fact that his last year of preschool prepared him well for the challenges of this coming year. His teachers conducted the class as if it were a Kindergarten class. Ethan is well-versed in many of the classroom policies with which he will be faced this coming year. I know that will make things easier for him.
I remember so well the feeling of the night before the first day of school. Laying out the perfect outfit and then laying sleepless for hours in my dark room, unable to sleep from the jitters of anticipation of what the next day would hold. Replaying a summer full of memories and feeling the loss of those endless summer days and evenings, I would gently grieve the end of my freedom. I wonder what September 5th will be like for me and for Ethan. Which of us, if either, will be sleepless? Will he feel the butterflies in his tummy as he drifts off to sleep, or will I be the only one left restless and disquieted by the impending milestone?
Of all of the milestones we have experienced so far, this one strikes me as the most dramatic. This rite of passage represents a transition into a completely different way of life. This first day of school marks our entry into the world of competitive academics and all of the ups and downs that accompany it. We will soon have homework and tests and quizzes, and eventually (though further down the road) academic rankings. This is where we set the tone for Ethan's future academic successes and challenges. The best I can do right now is what I have always tried to do for my son. Hide from him the anxiety that I am feeling so that I can allow him to experience his own genuine emotions about the start of his "true" academic career, and be there for him if or when he has an emotion he needs to express. It is my goal to let him pave the way and to create his own future, but to stay close by in case his ship needs to be righted.

The Sweetest Sound

Yesterday I heard the sweetest sound. It was Eliana saying, "I love you." It wasn't clear as a bell, it wasn't the most perfect pronunciation, but it was unmistakable. My daughter turned around as she sat in my lap, she kissed my lips and then said, "I love you." She meant to say it, she wanted to express what she was feeling at the time and she did it.
The thing that makes it so tender for me is that I have been able to give this 17 month old child the desire to articulate such a feeling. It makes me feel absolutely wonderful about the job I am doing as a parent that my baby so completely understands the concept of love and is able to convey it to others. Her world is so full of love that it naturally flows from her to those around her. There aren't a lot of things for which I feel comfortable taking credit. I will happily claim this as my own triumph of parenting. I justify this with the assumption that were my daughter not exposed to true loving care on a daily basis, in fact completely enveloped in love at every moment, she would not have the capacity to understand, let alone express, love. After all, how can one understand the unknown?
This morning I was treated to a shower of I love you's. I'd be lying if I denied being intoxicated by it. The very idea of it makes me weak in the knees. Hearing Eliana say those words is on par with hearing Alan say those words to me for the first time. The impact on my heart is incalculable, I cannot quantify the feeling, I cannot adequately describe it. Suffice to say that this will be a day I'll long remember and cherish. This is one of the days when being a mommy feels very good.