Friday, September 7, 2007

Week one. Grade two.

We made it through the first week of school. Despite putting our daughter on the bus in tears every day this week...

There were a lot of changes this year for her: new principal, new teacher, new bus driver, new rules at school, new bus route (this week - a ONE HOUR bus ride home!) And finally, due to the boundary changes, less friends at school. Nothing earth shattering. Nothing unmanageable. But, when you are seven, these can be big changes.

She *begged* us to drive her to school and go in the classroom with her. We said no. On the very first day, I followed the bus and quickly ducked in the classroom with her supplies - but that was it. I didn't stay. She burst into tears. I hugged her quickly and left the room.

Each day, she said she couldn't do it. We told her she could. She said she was scared. We hugged her and told her we loved her but that she still had to go and do this scary thing.

It's so hard. I want to do all the scary things for her. But we can't. I've read about the "Helicopter parents" and I can see why they want to move into their child's dorm room with them. It's hard to watch your child get scared. I get that. But I never want to be that parent. Our thought is that if we start fostering small steps of independence now...hard as it the time she is 18 there will be no way in hell she would ever consider letting us accompany her to her college orientation!

We managed to luck out for the third year in a row and get a PHENOMENAL teacher who "gets" daughter D. Even after only 4 days, I can tell that she has found herself another "remember all your life" teacher. Three years in a row. What are the odds?

Oh, and son D? He ran into his Pre-K classroom with a huge smile on his face and didn't even turn to say goodbye. These kids come from the same gene pool?

1 comment:

Anjali said...

Best of luck and I hope things ease up very soon. When it comes to separation anxiety, I'm definitely that parent that will walk the kids to the classroom, and sneak a peak in the window to make sure they're OK. I'd cry the whole way home otherwise!