It is possible I have given up entirely for the day. Evidence of this is that the kids are watching Octonauts nonstop in the other room, my husband is across town at the only Walgreens that has any stock of the migraine medicine I need and the cat is licking up dinner from the plates abandoned on the table. I’d throw a pillow at him, but I’m afraid I’ll break a glass and have just one more mess to clean up. Oh, and there is something in the microwave that I am too tired to retrieve (tea? a hot pack? I can’t remember), so it beeps at me every minute in reminder.
I had to register my four-year-old for school in the fall today. It was only step one, as we go in to the school with all the right papers the first week of February. Consider yourself lucky if you haven’t had to listen to me hem and haw about what to do for school for this one. See, she’s four and she has a birthday two weeks after the official cut-off date for enrollment. In the fall, since she will be four on September 1st, she is slated to attend 4K. (Yes, yes, we’re doing the traditional schooling thing. If I wanted to home-school or un-school like all the cool kids we obviously wouldn’t be having this discussion.) There is also the possibility of early admission to five-year-old kindergarten.
For quite some time, it has been obvious to everyone that staying the course and doing four-year-old kindergarten in the fall would be the best choice. She’s a delicate flower. She doesn’t speak to people if she doesn’t want to, and she never wants to. She’s a true koala, a beautiful barnacle, who never leaves my side. Except that now she’s blooming. And, oh my heart, it is amazing to see. Suddenly, after almost a year of going to a nature class, she says “hi” to her teacher for the first time. She sings the welcome song. She runs up to the door, sticks her head in to yell “Bye, Mommy!” and drives off with her friends to a live concert without so much as a backward glance. (Okay, so this is David Landau performance at the pizza place with our good friend and her daughters, but still.) Those of you who have witnessed it and celebrated these big steps with her, (and me), I am so grateful.
So…here we have a little girl, who is now ready in every important way to go to school in the fall…and a mom who isn’t. We’ve heard this story before. Everyone survives. In fact, if my six-year-old son, our first fledgling, is any indicator, everyone thrives. I’m telling you, though, you fill out those forms that begin the launch sequence and tell me if you’re in any better shape than I. See, I went to the store and bought a chocolate-covered Rice-Krispie bar and ate it in my car and am now motionless on the sofa, getting a migraine, clutching my laptop and waiting for someone to stop the microwave from beeping, kick the cat off the table and shut down the video glut.
All the small stuff is just going to have to wait while I figure out the big stuff. The way forward and the best choice for her will come to me. Just give me a few days.