Basketcase
I took Zozer to school this morning, realizing that this is her last day in the Bunny Room. I was sad, but it didn't really hit me until we were walking down the hallway and I saw that her cubby had already been cleaned out, everything neatly stored in a bin that will go to the Bear Room cubbies this afternoon. Ms. Shari was standing there with a spray bottle of cleaner and a rag, wiping down the boxes. We looked at each other and, when tears sprang to my eyes, she looked away quickly. "Stop it! If I don't think about it, I'm okay! I can pretend it's not happening!"
Zoe isn't the only one who bonded with her teachers this year.
I took some pictures of Zoe with Ms. Shari and Ms. Caroline, and looked around the classroom with sadness. It is stripped down and devoid of anything specific to the children who are moving on. I remember it looking similar when Zoe started in the Bunny Room last June, but it had slowly morphed into a place representative and reflective of our children. Zoe and her friends, both new and old (some moved with her from the Elephant Room, some moved on to other rooms). Now the room looks almost barren. I lingered and thought about how often I will have to deal with these changes, seemingly small and insignificant.
I know I am not the only mom thinking about these things. I spoke to the mother of Zoe's BFF, Kaitlyn, yesterday morning. Kaitlyn doesn't go to school on Fridays because Carrie is off, so yesterday was her last day in the Bunny Room. In the middle of our chat, Carrie asked, "What time are you getting to school on Tuesday?" "I dunno...why?" She wanted to ensure that Kaitlyn got there when Zoe did, so they could start their new room together. We agreed to be there at 7:30. We also agreed that this transition is way harder on us than it is on the girls. She admitted that she's already dreading kindergarten, as Zoe and Kaitlyn will no longer attend the same school.
I realize my child will grow up, and I'm happy that she seems to be a happy, well-adjusted little girl. I looked at her as she dozed on my bed this morning, taking in the long, lanky legs (like her father's), the long, curly hair, and the relaxed ease and grace that belied the strength and kinetic energy she normally exudes. I marveled at how tall she's getting and remembered how tiny she was when she was born. She opened her eyes, saw me looking at her, and just smiled. Her unspoken message: "Everything will be okay, Mommy."
I know it will be. I just need to figure out my own way of dealing with transition and change.
Zoe isn't the only one who bonded with her teachers this year.
I took some pictures of Zoe with Ms. Shari and Ms. Caroline, and looked around the classroom with sadness. It is stripped down and devoid of anything specific to the children who are moving on. I remember it looking similar when Zoe started in the Bunny Room last June, but it had slowly morphed into a place representative and reflective of our children. Zoe and her friends, both new and old (some moved with her from the Elephant Room, some moved on to other rooms). Now the room looks almost barren. I lingered and thought about how often I will have to deal with these changes, seemingly small and insignificant.
I know I am not the only mom thinking about these things. I spoke to the mother of Zoe's BFF, Kaitlyn, yesterday morning. Kaitlyn doesn't go to school on Fridays because Carrie is off, so yesterday was her last day in the Bunny Room. In the middle of our chat, Carrie asked, "What time are you getting to school on Tuesday?" "I dunno...why?" She wanted to ensure that Kaitlyn got there when Zoe did, so they could start their new room together. We agreed to be there at 7:30. We also agreed that this transition is way harder on us than it is on the girls. She admitted that she's already dreading kindergarten, as Zoe and Kaitlyn will no longer attend the same school.
I realize my child will grow up, and I'm happy that she seems to be a happy, well-adjusted little girl. I looked at her as she dozed on my bed this morning, taking in the long, lanky legs (like her father's), the long, curly hair, and the relaxed ease and grace that belied the strength and kinetic energy she normally exudes. I marveled at how tall she's getting and remembered how tiny she was when she was born. She opened her eyes, saw me looking at her, and just smiled. Her unspoken message: "Everything will be okay, Mommy."
I know it will be. I just need to figure out my own way of dealing with transition and change.
posted by Amy at 7:55 AM
1 Comments:
I had to say goodbye to kindergarten last week and Bennett's teacher. She is the most wonderful teacher and kept tearing up on the day of their kindergarten class party. When Bennett came home that day, he had this book in his backpack that she made of all the things they did throughout the year. There was a note in the back from his teacher that is so sweet it makes me cry just to think about it. It surprised me how hard it was to say goodbye. On the first day of kindergarten, I was not sad...just very proud. It has been a bittersweet couple of days for us too.
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