It’s not like I didn’t know that years would turned into months. Then weeks, and now days until Harlow starts “Big Girl” school. I knew it was creeping up on me, but like most things that I’m not ready to deal with, I pushed it way back in my emotional vault. I’m pretty sure Harlow is about 65% excited and 35% nervous to begin Kindergarten. I guess I might be feeling the opposite. Not because she won’t do great. I know she will. She always does. Sheis so smart and such a good little girl and I know she will make new friends and expand her knowledge and become more and more independent. So, when I’m laying in bed and my mind is racing and anxiety is beginning to make a lump form in my throat, I just keep whispering to myself, “Kinder, please be kind”.
We can walk her to her classroom for the first THREE days. THREE!?!? That’s it!?! This is my baby. The only one I’ll ever have and I’m supposed to just throw her into the trenches and drive off? Ok, I realize school isn’t “the trenches” but for me it’s unknown territory. Yes, we’ve been to summer camps. Yes we’ve been to Pre K and she shined through all of those firsts, but this seems different somehow. More grown up. More permanent. Like a chapter that’s ending on her being a baby and suddenly she’s wearing a big kid backpack and walking the halls without me. I know some moms laugh at the women who tear up at the thought of their child beginning school, but I don’t care.
What if she can’t find her way to the classroom?
What if she can’t open her lunch?
What is she gets diarrhea and needs help wiping? (Gross, I know. But still a worry).
What if she doesn’t recognize one single child in her class?
What if no one wants to play with her or partner up with her?
What if her shoes are rubbing against her barely there heel?
And what if, what if children make fun of her legs?!
The last one usually overwhelms me to the point of tears. I know kids are kids. And kids are curious. But I pray that children will be kind and if they ask her questions, I hope they are gentle. I hope Harlow can remain as strong and mature about her scars as she has been in the past.
Please don’t make fun of her. Please don’t point or whisper. Please don’t treat her differently or make rude comments.
I know there are kids out there that have it so much worse. My child isn’t handicapped. She isn’t limited on most things. She survived and we are always reminded of how lucky we are and how amazing she is. I just hope that the teachers and students will always be sweet and understanding. I pray that she handles all questions and obstacles with bravery and grace. I hope she remains the kind child.
I hope that like most things that I’ve built up in my head, this too will be an easy transition. But most of all, I wish my entire being that the tears shed at school are mine and not hers.
Kindergarten, please be kind.
