“I don't remember who said this,
but there really are places in
the heart you don't even know exist until you love a child.”
-Anne Lamott
She woke up excited and anxious the first day, unhappy that she was up before the sun, but ready to go. John didn't have a job scheduled for the day, so he was able to join us for the big day. We were there well before the bell and the first in the classroom. The walls were full of posters, ABC's, numbers and the like. The tiny chairs chairs were arranged around knee height tables, perfect for my little girl. We parted as soon as she was settled in her assigned seat and starting her breakfast, which is served each day in the classroom, so she would get used to the idea of us leaving.
Picking her up, she kept asking me if I saw this and that. I soon realized she thought I was in the hallway watching her the entire day. I informed her I wasn't there all day and she seemed shocked. She lamented that school wasn't what she expected and didn't want to go again.
Day two, I dropped her off in her classroom and she sat there in her kid sized chair, purple bows in her hair and tears welling up in her eyes. I wanted to grab her and hold her as I always do, but I parted quickly feeling once I was out of sight she would do better.
I picked her up and found she had refused breakfast; preferring to sit with her arms crossed and her head hung to pout (she even reenacted it for me). Once again she was upset school wasn't as fun as expected and said she didn't want to go again.
Day three was especially difficult as the Raptor Program had started and parents were lined out the door trying to get registered to take their kids to the classroom. At the entrance of the hallway moms and dads were trying to send their kids down the crowded corridors as many of them clung to their parents and cried. I realized that if I tried to register, she wouldn't make it in time for breakfast, (they have to be 15 min early), so I too tried to get her to walk the 20 feet to her classroom. She refused and as a teacher grabbed up the hands of the tearful red-faced kindergarteners who were too afraid to go alone, Zoey started to fight and cling to me. I had to peel her off, and walk away, crying myself. I noticed many other moms were also crying, so at least I wasn't the only one.
After school I found she again refused breakfast, and again didn't want to go back to school. Day four I had registered after school, and arrived extra early to receive my pass. Once in the classroom I thought we would be fine, but she decided to cling, scream and cry once again upon my parting. I had to hand her to the teacher and dash out once again.
Determined to change her behavior, I devised a reward system of smiley faces in imitation of the teacher's reward system, and promised her a trip to Chuck-e-Cheese if she could improve her behavior. Immediately the next day she allowed me to leave with tears in her eyes, but without a fight. The days after that the tears began to wane, although she informed me she cried through a few lunches.
Week three is upon us and she is happy and eager to go to school. No tears and no fighting. She even wakes before her alarm and now tries to drag me out the door before it's time so she can be the first kid there. She still insists mom walk her all the way to her classroom, which is fine with me because I know someday she'll not want me there.
She's learning so much already, made friends in her classroom, and told me she now loves school. Mom is sad her little girl is growing so quickly, but is enjoying some peace and quiet and getting to some projects that had been too difficult to start with a little one on my heels.
