And just like that, he's off to kindergarten! Kind, thoughtful, inquisitive, clever & downright delightful. Oh, how I already miss him. He was ready and so my mama heart rallied, but I think I still need a year or two.
He won’t be waiting for me at the window with a wave, as he was when Ian went off to kindergarten. His gleeful hand swinging side to side, his body bouncing with elation. It will be forever planted in my mind as a favorite memory in this house, whenever I see that window. Each time I walk up our driveway and glance toward that pane of glass, I’ll look for three year old Owen.
Time moves relentlessly on. I love five year old Owen. He’s a blast, joy, hoot, and all around lovely person. I have been sad at times because I feel like we missed out on a “normal” preschool time when he got to make the decisions for all the playdates and activities we’ve done. And he did. And yet he also had lots of time to play with his brother and sister than he would have otherwise.
I never want him to feel like he’s getting the shaft, as the middle child. I want him to feel supported, known, pursued, loved.
He went from “nervous and excited” to “just excited” after the orientation and he maintained that all of the way to getting on the bus today. He seemed so composed and calm. So eager and relaxed. This is a huge change for him, a new teacher and school, riding the bus, new classmates. And even still, he was ready.
Ian, too. This transition back to school and second grade is more of a homecoming for him. He’s been in this school for much of kindergarten (before they went remote) and it was a place he loved and cherished, with teachers he admired and missed. He told me he was a bit nervous, but I wouldn’t have known based on how he was acting. When I asked him if he had a choice between homeschool and school last week (and it wouldn’t hurt my feelings either way), what would he choose. I was surprised that he chose homeschool. I am going to be fascinated to hear what he has to say about it after a few days of being back. But today, he was completely calm and composed with his demeanor. It felt like just a normal day.
This peace and centeredness and ease is what we hope for them. We want them to walk with confidence in themselves, with the feeling that they belong somewhere and that they are safe to move beyond our home and into the world. And then, after they’ve explored and exerted themselves, they know they have a safe place to return. A place of sanctuary, familiar and comforting.
Watching my children exist these last few days has been a wonder to me. As I scuttled about emptying and loading backpacks, labeling all the things, and making sure things were ready, they seemed completely unphased that their lives were about to change so much, so soon.
In some ways perhaps it was blissful ignorance, but in other ways I think it was (and maybe hope it was) an example for the strength and comfort they feel within themselves. They were made for this, they have been home for eighteen months, and now they are ready to go out into the world.
I am so very curious to hear about their days this afternoon.
What a change for us all. After so much togetherness, we learned so much about ourselves, about home, about school. Today was not bitter or sweet, it was calm and peaceful. It felt like we were all getting to go and be ourselves, knowing that we would reunite at the end of the day.
And in the end, that’s all we can dream for us and for our children. That we can all become the version of ourselves that we were meant to be, and then connect again to celebrate, comfort, and encourage as we move on our winding journeys.
