First Grade Makes Me Cry...

"Yaaay, First Day of School!"  The twins didn't bring their blankies to school, just for the ride in the car..  L had to bring a  surprise that would show what his interests were.  You guessed it, he brought a sperm whale...

Take the picture already, lady!

Loading up....

"First Grade!"

First grade was like a cheetah, lying in wait in the tall grass for me, the stupid baby impala to stumble away from the herd.  There I was, last week, scrambling around, trying to gather all the school supplies and finish the necessary paperwork for school, feeling confident, not worrying about the deadly cat known as the First Day at a New School hiding just a few feet from my dumb, cud-chewing self.  And then, BAM!  It hit me with lightning speed and knocked any hope of rational thought out of my mind.  Okay, so maybe that's a little dramatic.  It isn't that bad I suppose (F might argue with that assessment)...I'm not dead, after all.  But I was weepy and prone to overly-emotional anxiety when I dropped L off for school.
I am a little surprised by my reaction.  I have been doing this school thing for a long time...well, a long time in the relative terms of my son's short life.  He's been going to hippie preschool (aka Montessori) since he was 3 1/2 years old.  He went to all-day kindergarten last year.  I'm not sure if it is because it's a new school or because it is a traditional school with a much larger student body, but man, I am struggling.  It's so funny how those Mama Bear instincts kick in when you least expect it. F called at 8:30 am that day to see how badly I was crying and I said, "I don't know those people!  That is my baby and I just dropped him off and I don't know who those people are or what they are doing or how his day is going!  I don't know the kids!  What if they are mean?"  I got all spun up about it.  F, ever the voice of reason, said, "Whoa!  Dial it back a little.  Those people are teachers at a very good school.  Don't worry, he'll be fine."
He seems to be fine....when I picked him up that first day, he seemed a little bewildered and sad so I asked him if he was okay and his bottom lip trembled as he said, "Mom!  Nobody would play with me at recess!"  I had an extremely long awkward period when I was a kid (some might say I have yet to outgrow it fully) so I knew firsthand what it is like to be the new kid in a big school.  It's so much worse to watch your child deal with it...mainly because the desire to protect is so strong and all you can do is wait it out...let the natural process unfold and give them hugs when they feel down.  L's sadness was short-lived...he said he played with a boy who had yellow Nike shoes on the playground the next day.  And played with someone in his Lunch Bunch (my protective anxiety has yet to wear off...and it's not limited to just the social politics of First Grade, it is also about him learning to focus/learning to manage his time/him being essentially the youngest kid in his class...and the worry is wearing me out).  He kept assuring me that he was having a great time in First Grade, he liked his new school...the kids were nice, etc.  But he speaks in generalities and I need details, dammit!  (L is unlike A who rattles off a situation report every day when I pick her up not just about her own activities and emotions, but also the general state/activities of every kid in the class...which is nice.  If she doesn't bring back the monarchy in some small country when she grows up, I think she should be a spy...I'd love to send her to school with L so I can find out what really is going on there...I think I have to settle with volunteering in his class as much as humanly possible).
Confession: I stood in a closet crying a little the first day, imagining L on the playground, watching the other kids wistfully, not being able to break into the group (most of them have gone to school together through Pre-K and K, so they are old friends now)...and of course, I'm just making it out to be worse than it was.  L said he had a great day and couldn't wait to go back.  The second day, I choked up while we were waiting to unload in the carpool lane and said, "Oh, L, I'm gonna miss you when you go school!"  He leaned over, put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Don't worry, Mom!  I am coming back tonight!"  I feel a little sheepish that I've struggled so much with this, but I realized how big he is getting and how his world no longer consists of mainly people I have pre-screened and accepted because of their kindness and compassion.  I can't protect him anymore and each year the spaces in his life over which I don't have the ability to protect him will grow larger and larger.  All I can do is comfort him and trust in his resilience and reinforce our values and our love for him.  Gah!  Parenting is so hard!  F keeps reminding me not to make the recess thing a big deal or else he'll start thinking it is a big deal...and I'm trying, I really am.  He'll be fine, I know he will.  It's me I'm worried about!  I better get it together and just trust him...because he will do well.  And if he needs a little help in handwriting, we'll do that...but he can do all this Grade School stuff...sigh...I just have to calm down!
Since I know you are wondering, I will tell you that the twins love their school, too!  They only go for a couple hours a day...but you never saw M so proud in his life!  And he won't poop his pants at school because he wants to impress Miss Mary and Miss Megan (I wonder if we could move in for a while? I am so tired of cleaning up poopy drawers and floors).  Yaay for school!  A really digs learning French...she was chanting "Je m'appelle car/bush/street/Miss Megan" all the way home one day.  I can't believe we've made it this far!
But as a realistic warning, if you see me around town, crying my eyes out randomly, you'll know it's nothing serious, just me realizing my babies are growing up!  (Seriously, you'd cry too if you had to watch little L make the long walk up the sidewalk to his school with his backpack that seems still too big for his body...I told him I could park and walk with him, but he said firmly, "Mama, I want to do it alone."  Sniff, sniff...I'm getting better about these emotions, but it was a little shaky for a couple days.  My weepiness prompted F to ask, "Could you possibly be pregnant???"  Umm...no, just the First Grade blues....

Evacuation Fun!

L in a tree at the Charlottesville Children's Discovery Center...

A checks out some skunk hair under a microscope with Daddy...

Building with giant Lego blocks...

The boys constructing tower cranes...

L was the foreman, I believe...

M in a crib in the replica log cabin...

What hurricane?  I got my sparkly shoes and a bunny, I'm not worried!

Umm...she did this on purpose...several times...I  thought she'd hurt herself, but she didn't...

How does L instinctively know the fighter pilot pose?

M and the helicopter...

L figuring it out with Dad...I love this picture...

M the pilot...with his helmet...he didn't ever want to leave the cockpit...

A gets her uniform on...

M's Russian cosmonaut pose...

I'm gonna be a pilot!

L found the NASA flight suit and LOVED it and didn't want to take it off...

Busy Bee...

Jump for the ball!

We survived Hurricane Irene!  Actually, it wasn't as bad as the media coverage might have indicated.  We had to evacuate to Charlottesville, VA, about 3 hours from here last Friday morning.  We didn't have to pay for our own hotel room, so that was nice.  And we stayed there until Sunday morning, when we got the all clear for our post.  While we were in Charlottesville, we hit the Children's Discovery Museum which was free for all military dependents...and got to catch up with a friend who had moved from VT to VA a year earlier.  The kids did pretty well, considering the circumstances.  I can't say F or I slept well in the hotel room mainly because it is a college town and we were close to the party zone (I have decided that I am officially old, it is painful to stay up late).  When we got home, we had power and didn't think we had any major water damage, but then at the end of this week, we were surprised by some work that the flood damage repair company did on apartment while I was shuttling kids to and from school:

This is the dining room where they sawed off the water damaged sheetrock and left exposed studs and wires, etc...which they kindly covered in industrial strength plastic sheeting...thereby covering our window with the view of the beach and distressing L who said, "Mom!  What happened to the window?  I miss it!  I need to see the ships going by!"  Which is how I feel...but I also miss, you know, the walls...which would prevent the children from inadvertently electrocuting themselves....there is no timeline for when the new walls will be put up.  I am infinitely grateful that they took the walls off on the Friday before a long weekend...makes it more fun!

A showing off her Hello Kitty and the sexy duct-taped/plastic wrapped walls behind her...ahhh....we live the life!

So, I came home on Friday at noon expecting to do a few things: A. Take a shower after working out at the gym, B. Make the kids lunch, and C. Put the little ones down for a much-needed nap.  And what I found was a work crew in my house that had cordoned off the various rooms in my house with heavy plastic and were cutting the "water damage" off the walls.  They'd told me a few days earlier that they would be putting plastic sheeting up on the ceiling and patching a couple spots in the ceiling, but never intimated that the work would require that we leave the house until the evening.  Which put a cramp in my plans.  So, no naps, no shower, eating out for lunch and dinner.  It wasn't all a wash, I got to take my sister and the kids to the Norfolk Zoo...which I think people mostly enjoyed (except for when M crapped his pants for the 2nd time that day and accidentally wiped poop on his eye...but that was mainly just unpleasant for me as I was the only witness).  But here I sit, typing this while the children pretend they are hiding out beneath the dining room table, staring at the plastic-covered walls.  F is at work this weekend, but we'll see what he thinks when he gets home!  In the meantime, if you want to come for a visit to the Taj Mahal, let me know!  We are booking up fast!