This is a blog I wrote 11 years ago, August 16, 2010. The picture above is my daughter, Nina Jane, when she was 3. I wrote this piece to assure moms everywhere that they are not alone.
You would have to be deaf and blind to not know that school is ready to start in my hometown, here in the Ozarks. Everyone is shopping, taking last minute vacations for the day or overnight to theme parks and lakes. Anything to cram a little more summer into an already hectic schedule.
As the first day of school looms ahead, I remember watching the Kindergarten moms bringing their children to school for that once-in-a-lifetime experience. The road to the old elementary went right by my house, so my husband and I had a front row seat to the reality show called "I'm so happy, I'm so sad." Mothers had spent lots of time combing hair, tying in ribbons, picking the perfect outfit for their little ones. Proud as can be they marched along the street...little mister or miss hanging onto mommy's hand and carrying their new lunchbox in the other. I know what happened next, even though I wasn't present at the classroom door. Because, soon, here would come the Kindergarten moms, minus their little ones. And every face was covered with tears. Some tried to hide their feelings, but most were openly weeping. And I felt for them.
I too had that Kindergarten mom experience. The only trouble was that I was a teacher in the same school and I was expected in my classroom that morning. My little girl went with me up the stairs to her classroom...new tennis shoes and blue, blue jeans for the first day, and her very own lunchbox. How proud she was. Thankfully, her teacher was the mother of one of her best friends, so there was already a connection there. I kissed her good-bye and left her at the door. Walking through the gym to get to my own classroom, I can remember thinking, "I AM NOT GOING TO CRY!" but the telltale tears would not go away. Luckily, my principal saw me coming by the office and called me in to speak with her. I ducked my head and followed her into her office. Giving me a smile, she closed the door, pulled up a chair and handed me a box of Kleenex. She didn't have to say a word. You see...she was a mom too. After a few minutes, I was able to pull myself together, and with red eyes and a wobbly smile faced the beginning of a new school year.
This is written for all you Kindergarten moms. That first walk to the classroom is hard, you will cry, but it will be okay in the end. It's all part of being a mom.
