Serenity Wanted

Enchanted Oak, one of my current favorite blogs, wrote a review about a book I really need to read right now.

True to form, my son had a rough day at school--on his second day of school. According to his progress sheet, which is sent home every day with comments, and which a parent needs to read and sign, he played around and talked at his desk, completed almost none of his work, and so on. He had a rough day all around, for I had to take him out of school early so that he could get a shot to complete a series and be formally admitted into school. And I actually had to pull him off a doorjamb and hold him down so that the nurse could give him the shot.

I have never had to do this before. Even now, as I sit in my hotel room, my stomach churns in dread over how he is likely behaving in the classroom at this very moment.

You know the old saying, "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change those I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."

My wisdom is severely lacking. I can't change his behavior once my son is at school. He seems bent on doing whatever he wants to, and a bad mood makes his behavior even worse. But is there something about his mood that I can help to change? Is there a way I am contributing to his moodiness, or his attitude, or his behavior?

Or do I need to accept this as something I cannot change? Is this a place where I need to find serenity, to accept my son as he is and allow the school to deal with his behavior on their own, let him accept the consequences of his actions, and just take care of me without the tinglings of dread I feel each morning? Do I just make it clear to my son that I love him, and hope he finds his own path to happiness?

Any advice? I know many of you are parents, and many of you have much older kids... perhaps you can give me insight and perspective I don't have at this point.

New Beginnings

Despite not having ANY of the required documents to enroll, my children started school here in Georgia, 2,795 miles from where we lived only a week ago. (The required shot records are still processing at the health department, and all of the other identifying documents are in our moving pods... which won't be delivered until our house closes... which was supposed to happen Dec. 30th... which didn't... but which should happen by the end of January.)

School supplies in hand (in grocery bags), the kids took a tour with us parents, looking over the library, the lunchroom (which also serves breakfast), the music room, and their own classrooms. Each child went happily into a new room, with a new smily teacher, a new group of students, a new chance to make friends and do fun things and otherwise not be bored.

The hubby seemed pretty impressed with the kids this morning, and so was I. But I couldn't talk about it as we walked out the door without them. He kept asking me what I was thinking, but each time I opened my mouth my eyes teared up. What if they weren't okay? What if someone was mean to them? What if they were unhappy?

Then again, plenty of kids had been mean at their last school. And I can count a large number of times they came home unhappy, or disappointed, or hurt. But they went back the next morning, as cheery and hopeful as if they'd won the lottery, and school was a big treat.

Today was no exception. Today they had the treat of getting to go to school. So they smiled, hopped up and down, and even did a little happy dance in the hotel on the way to the car.

Amazing how a little optimism can brighten a day, and though I'm still feeling a bit choky, their smiles comforted me as the hours past.

Now if I could just get over my own motherliness... and perhaps approach the day with the same optimism?

School Starts Today!

I've been up two hours already this morning... and believe me, 3:30 is not my normal wake-up time, but with my kids going back to school, I've been FREAKING OUT about it!

NOT because I hate being with out them. Sorry, kiddos... love you, but SO happy you are going back to school. I was maybe a week away from running out of the house screaming, but your school began right on time.

NOT because it means they are a year older. I am not nostalgic, and don't pine and weep over the fact that my son no longer says "lello" for "yello" and my daughter is almost as tall as my shoulder. I love that they are growing up (and haven't killed each other yet).

NOT because it means I am 1.5 weeks from starting school myself. I really do LOVE teaching (except the grading--gag!).

I am FREAKING OUT because I fear what my kids will be doing at school. Will my daughter have fallen behind in math and reading, despite what we've worked on this summer? She was giddy last night (meeting her teacher, who seems spectacular), but will her enthusiasm wane when she actually has homework?

I am also FREAKING OUT because of my son's performance last year. He excelled in all academics, and probably already reads at least a grade level above where he is right now, but I was in and out of the principal's office last year (for the reasons why, this example). Should I drive them to school so he's in a good mood? Should I make them ride the bus, and risk his being grumpy when he gets there? Should I make him deal with it and deal with the consequences?

I'm even FREAKING OUT because of the mornings to come. Will they get ready on time, or will the mornings become a nag fest like last year? If that's what they are meant to be, I quit now. Since I don't have to teach for the next week and a half, if one or both of my kids aren't ready on time, I'm going to let them miss the bus (or ride) to school. Hopefully they'll learn fast to get ready.

I have another plan in motion, one that I spent the majority of yesterday on. More details on that tomorrow (or Friday, whenever I get it finished). In the meantime, I am getting an appointment for a massage before the kinks in my back rip my vertebrae apart!

Summer with Kids

There once were two kids out of school

Who were so bored they started to drool

So tired of Wii

They were fighting with me

And begging me for a swim pool.

We went to the YMCA

Where I tried to entice them with play

They stomped someone's toes

And busted a nose

Yes, it was a horrible day.

But summer is soon to be gone

Along with the tear they've been on.

I know that I'll miss them

And often I'll kiss them

But for now I'll be glad when it's done.

(You see, I can't write a rhyming poem without it being silly. It just isn't in me. Using a limerick format doesn't help, either. At least I'd have a chance if I used the sonnet form.)

(Instead, I'll just stick to free verse.)

Separation Anxiety

It's been several days since I've blogged, but I was busy getting my kids set up for school. My son, a tiny five-year-old, just stepped on the bus for the second time this week to attend all-day kindergarten. Did I cry the first time? Nope. I did get a little hollow in my stomach, but I didn't cry. Honestly, I probably would have felt a little lonely yesterday, but I was too busy grading (I won't start on that subject, though).

This morning, my son was off again, holding his sister's hand as he climbed up into the bus. I know it helps to see him with her, to know he's riding all the buses with her, to know she's there on the playground for at least one of his three recesses. Mostly, though, I feel proud of him, that he's brave enough to take off and try something all day, to involve himself with new friends, new routines, and new explorations.

And he is brave. Did he cling to me? Nope. His sister didn't either. Neither of them were trouble in this way. Not ever. Not even on the first day of preschool. Now, since the day they were born I took them everywhere, organized play dates and sleepovers, took them to lunch with friends (my friends), and involved them in very social activities. 

I am not alone in doing this sort of socialization, yet I know there is a whole other group of parents who do the opposite. I was reminded of this just this morning, when one of the kindergardeners wouldn't get on the bus. His older sister climbed on and urged him to do the same, but he wouldn't. His mother had to drive him to school this morning, hoping she'd be able to leave him in his classroom eventually (once he stopped clinging to her leg).

Now, he's not my son. My son was born in Independence, Kansas, for a reason--and since he was born he's pretty much insisted on doing everything for himself. Still, my work to socialize him has paid off, for he has always had reinforcement to take chances, to try new things. So far the only thing that didn't work was soccer (again, that's a whole other blog). 

But this little boy who wouldn't get on the bus had hardly been out of his house. His mom had waited to go to the store until her husband was home to watch the kids. He never went to preschool. In fact, the three hours he spent at school yesterday may count as the longest he'd ever been away from his mother. No wonder it was tough for him.

I'm not saying the way I'm raising my kids is the right way. But it's my way, and it's a direct response to the lack of socialization I received as a child and the lack I see in other children. Children are taught their ABC's, but if they aren't taught to interact, they lose out on a lot. 

I have no desire to teach my kids to fear being away from me. I want them, if anything, to have a little more bravery than they need. I want them ready to face the world, no matter what, so when it's time to go off to college, to get that full-time job, to take some risks to get what they truly want, they are ready.

Thoughts? I've shared mine.