The K Word

Today was a big day for Kate - and a heart-aching one for me. We went to kindergarten orientation at her new elementary school. We aren't sure we'll actually be attending this school, depending on whether we're still here into the beginning of the school year, but we decided to enroll her anyway just in case. I was definitely nervous. I've had neighbors tell me negative things about the school, and of course like the obsessive overbearing diligent mother I am, I've read all the performance reports and student & parent surveys and I have to say I was not too thrilled with my findings. Not that I'm actually in any place to judge, having never sent a child to school before, and this school district is supposed to be one of the best in the country, in contrast to public schools in Utah, where I used to teach. Anyway, I digress. This is not really about schools and I don't want to go into an opinion rant. This is about Kate. And how I think she's growing up far too fast. And I don't know how parents just up and send their small children out into the great unknown as if it's another trip to the post office. Impossible! If you have figured it out, please teach me.

So here's how it went. We walk through the double doors, Kate and I, and immediately they slap a pre-printed nametag on her with a dinosaur on it and then stand her in front of a giant poster with an identical (but ginormous) dinosaur on it and snap her picture. She was nervous even for this part, so I stood to the side and held her hand. She was still clutching the dandelion she had picked on our way in. Next they informed us that the kids were going to play games and draw in the classroom while the parents went upstairs to do paperwork. Just like that! The little girl who came in just ahead of us skipped off to the classroom (she has an older sibling at the school and was not new at this, like Kate & I) but Kate pretty nearly freaked out. I offered to walk with her to the classroom. The way was clearly marked with big dinosaur tracks taped to the floor (awkwardly spaced, of course), which she followed very carefully - meaning stepping on each one, naturally. Once we got in the room she was still scared to let me leave, although really I've seen greater resistance from her. The teachers asked knowingly, "Has she been to school or anything this past year?" Trying not to look like that helicopter mom who is the only person to my knowledge in the STATE who didn't send her 4-year-old to preschool, I replied lamely, "Um, no, well we did a pre-school exchange with some other moms..." (In my defense, these moms & I all have experience teaching pre-school or elementary school. I think we did a great job with our pre-school exchange and our kids learned a lot. Kate just didn't get any experience being away from familiar people in a school-type setting. Um that's what kindergarten is for, right???) Anyway. I slipped off to work on registration forms and Kate, as the teacher told me later, immediately turned around and said, "I have a sister." And promptly launched into one of her monologues that she saves for unsuspecting strangers who have not yet heard her life story. She was completely fine.

The other parents and I rejoined the group later for a powerpoint presentation and introductions from various staff members whose names and positions I TOTALLY remember, and Kate sat with her new soon-to-be classmates and was positively glowing. I was not. I felt more out of my element than I have in a long time, and I was in a classroom for crying out loud! I guess I'm just not used to being on the parent end, and believe me it's harder! I tried to take notes of all the details like how breakfast is served and where the music room is and how they are expected to read by the end of the year and that they have ONE 30-minute recess in a full 8-hour school day! YIKES! (PS I have my own opinions on full-day kindergarten in the first place.) Kate was meanwhile eating it all up. I just can't fathom that she could possibly be ready for this. She's on the younger side anyway, with a July birthday, and small and shy and not really crazy (craziness is a key factor in making friends quickly at this age, apparently).

We ended with a tour of the school, where a 5th grade "patrol" (my piano students tell me this is a highly revered position granted to the most mature and well-behaved older students) named Stephanie stuck with us and answered all my questions very competently for a 10-year-old. As we walked back down the hall to leave, groups of students were lining up in the halls, looking very much like, well, school-aged children. Stephanie smiled and said good-bye in her grown-up manners, and Kate held my hand and skipped back down the hall stepping on the dinosaur footprints. Her dandelion had been relegated to the plastic bag of PTA information I was carrying. She seemed so comfortable and completely ready for this. Do I have to be?

**POST-SCRIPT: We had the missionaries over for dinner tonight, and after they left I was holding Troy in my lap where he had fallen asleep. I looked down at him and said there is NO WAY I am letting this boy leave me for two whole years for a mission. Not see him for two years??? No. Way. NOW I see how those kinds of moms can be so possessive of their sons and call them their "babies" even when they are grown independent men. Nobody warned me about ANY of this.