The Fourth Quarter of Kindergarten
Sending my first child to kindergarten felt like the elusive “apron strings” had actually been used to bind me in a hanging incident. It hurt. For many months (even into March!) I would cry at drop-off; and worry about the potential “what-ifs”, and pray that somehow I could just keep all of my babies tiny and safe and right next to me.
I continually went back to the choice we made to send her to Kindergarten in the first place; and finally (finally!) well into the fourth quarter, life and school and growth has all come together (and maybe a little bit of habit, too). She is thriving; we adore her teacher, and I’ve let go of a little bit of my pride: it’s important for other people to be part of her village. Necessary, even.
In the beginning, she was tired, and the days were too long, and I was continually wrestling with “the system”, what I thought was best for her, and what I thought was best for the other babies (maybe once or twice throwing a thought in for me, but not really).
Not that I have any say in it, but time is a thief; and pretty soon her teeth will be falling out of her head and she’ll grow another five inches. Her tiny, raspy laugh with the mixed-up words have been replaced with hours of illustrating books and asking how to spell every word under the sun; and her once baby-powdered hair smells like outside and the school lunchroom.
As this tremendous year of growth has played out, it has been my greatest joy to watch her fail and succeed; to struggle and shine.
At the start of the third quarter, she performed in the school talent show: “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star”; and as I watched her confidence and listened to her commentary, I couldn’t help but think how nature shows us how to push our little ones out of the nest, to watch as the caterpillar becomes a butterfly, and to rely on the intense pressure it takes for a star to reach its potential (and its potential is burning bright for millions of years).
We’ve almost made it to the end; the fourth quarter, the final count down, and now (with a new baby on the way), I’m not certain what we will do when life shifts back to the “once-normal”. I’ve learned there’s always a new normal in motherhood. Change is the only constant thing.
Twinkle, twinkle little star.
