New Midlife Mommy

Life Lessons

I remember my mother telling me, as I was sniffing my little baby's head, that letting your child go is one of the hardest things a mother will ever do.  Watching them go off to school, starting a life that includes more time with others than with you, and knowing that there will be heartache and hard life lessons.  Yet, there is nothing that you can do to protect that child from those hurts, because she needs to find her own way. 

My mother often said things like this during the last couple years of her life.  She knew that she didn't have much time to be with us, and she tried to squeeze in enough mothering advice to last a lifetime.  I have a good memory, and all those comments have been filed away.  They always seem to come back to me when I need them.

It's so much harder to get a glimpse into day to day school life now.  School starts at 9:00 and ends at 3:00.  Aftercare lasts until 6:00, and I usually only see the aftercare ladies when I pick DD up at the end of the day (DH does the drop off).  There are no daily reports to fill in the blanks.  Good, bad, or indifferent, we just don't know what's going on, though presumably, if there were issues, we would know about them.  But, since I know that DD has a soft spot for snuggling (so do I!), I've made a deal with her -- I will snuggle with her at bedtime as long as she talks about school.  No matter how mundane, I'm all ears. 

I've learned that there is a girl, "I", who sounds like a little snot, based on what DD has been telling me in the evenings.  DD pointed out a girl to me when we were out on an errand and said, "look mommy, that girl looks just like "I"!"  Based on that, I can tell you that she's pretty, with long blond hair and blue eyes.  This is probably unfair, but that is precisely how I imagined her.  Spoiled, pretty, and blond.

So far, based on the scraps that I've heard, "I" told DD that DD would not be invited to her birthday party, because she just wasn't on the list (the tone, imitated by DD, was snarky).  Understand that DD came from a world where generally speaking, all of the kids in the class were invited to parties, or at least all of the same gender in the class were invited to parties (depending on the theme).  It wasn't a school rule; it was just what we did.  And, had the little boy who'd caused so much trouble not been moved to another classroom before DD's birthday party, we would have invited him and crossed our fingers that he wouldn't act out at the party.

DD found "I's" comments puzzling.  I asked her why she thought "I" had said that, and she said that "I" also told everyone that she was only inviting the four year olds to her party ("I" will be 5 on her birthday).  DD thought that maybe if she hadn't told "I" that she was already 5, she would have surely been invited to the party.  I probed a bit and asked if she really thought that was the reason.  DD wasn't sure.  I asked if she and "I" were friends, and she said that they weren't -- "but mommy, if she just got to know me, I'm sure she would like me."  Pure, sweet, simple heart.  I told her that maybe that was true, but she needed to understand that not everyone in the world will like her, and that was OK, just as it was OK for DD not to like everyone she meets.  DD seemed convinced that "I" would like her eventually.

Since then, a couple things have happened, though there may be more things that I don't know about.  DD and another girl were talking to each other, and "I" said that she was going to tell the teacher that they were being mean to her (DD denied this and said that they weren't even talking to "I").  "I" did as promised, and the teacher came over and told DD and her friend that they shouldn't be mean to others.  Undaunted, and finding herself in line behind "I" on another day, DD complimented her hair ribbon.  To her credit, "I" said thanks. 

This evening, DD told me that when she sat down next to "I" today, "I" deliberately got up and sat on the other side of the person she had been sitting next to before DD sat down.  It was clearly an insult. I gently suggested, again, that perhaps DD might want to ignore "I," since she seemed like a rude little girl who clearly did not want to be DD's friend.  DD responded by telling me she was tired and didn't want to talk anymore.  And my mother's words echoed back to me, counseling me to let go, let go, let go.

But then, to my surprise, DD rolled back over and said, "mommy, don't worry.  I don't let her hurt my heart."

Ah, smart cookie.  Very smart.

We're Adjusting

I'm the mom of a kindergarten girl.  Fancy that.  And, it's OK.  Strange how that happened.  For those of you who are in your own transitions, I hope that they have gone well.

We're settling into our routine.  Each evening, DH chooses her clothes for the next day.  Even though she wears a uniform, there are choices (jumper vs. skort vs. shorts; bobby socks v. knee socks v. tights - in navy blue or white!).  She can wear whatever she wants in her hair, but so far, she hasn't asked me to do anything special.

DD has a limited repertoire of food that she will allow to pass her lips, which allowed me to make a checklist menu that she seems to be enjoying.  Every night that we have to pack a lunch (which has been quite often in September), DD chooses her menu after dinner, and then she helps me pack the things that can be packed early.  We put the list under the lunch box so that we will remember what is missing in the morning.  It's been working.

And, just last week, DD decided that she'd had enough of taking baths.  Nothing but showers for her from now on.  Which is OK, except that so far, I have to stand by the open shower door and give directions and some assistance, which leaves me a little damp by the end of the washing.  But I remind myself that someday soon, this too shall pass.  I'm sure that I will miss this last vestige of help in the personal care arena, just as I have missed all the others as I become unnecessary.  Tooth brushing will be next, I suppose, but that is something that DH does.

They are still calculating placements at school, so we're not sure where DD will come out in terms of the kind of assignments she will be given.  One of the reasons that we chose this (Montessori) school is because of the smaller ratios (no more than 12:1) and the individualized instruction.  DD tells me that she's been a little bored so far, but I think as things get rolling, that will change.  She's had homework twice now.  Just two little eight page books to read.  There are 97 in the first series, and they started her at book 70.  Once she finishes with that, there are other series she will go through, though I can't tell you what they are.  Parent orientation was a bit over my head at times; I'm sure it was discussed, but I can't recall.  There were a lot of "repeaters" - kids who were returning into this class of 3-6 year olds - and I think the teacher was (unintentionally) speaking more to them than to us newbies.  But, we'll figure it out.  And it doesn't matter where she starts.  I'm just glad that she has the opportunity to work at her own pace and to not get lost in the shuffle.

I haven't really said much (here and IRL), but I've finished my pill month and am currently waiting for cycle day 1 of what could very possibly be my last cycle (or maybe my last cycle was my last cycle if none of the embryos survive the thaw this time).  I don't know how I feel about that.  One minute, I think I'm at peace with whatever happens.  The next minute I'm thinking that I need to get the paperwork in order to make a withdrawal from my 401K for another try if this doesn't work.  My husband thinks I'm insane about this stuff, so I don't share these thoughts.  But since he reads this blog - Hello DH!

Mostly, I just haven't been thinking about it. 

We Survived Our First Day

But it was hard, so hard.  For me.  And to a lesser extent, DH.  DD, on the other hand, was really, really excited about starting school.

I lost it this morning when I saw her in her cute little uniform.  I kind of stepped away and went to the opposite side of the room to try to collect myself, none of which was lost on DD.  She asked her daddy what was wrong with me, and he said that I was just a little upset because my baby had turned into a very big girl.  DD came over and said "mommy, I have just the thing to make you feel better . . . come here."  And so I did, and bent down to look at her very earnest face.  And then she hugged me, and patted my back, as I have done so many times for her.  "There, mommy, feel better now?"  Gulp.  Um, no.  But I said yes.

We snapped a lot of pictures at home, and stopped at the coffee shop where DD asked for a cookie "because today is a special day."  Ace manipulator, that one, but I would normally buy her one anyway, as I always do on the rare occasions when I take her to school.  Both DH and I took DD in this morning, but she asked if she could drive with me.

I took a picture of her outside of the car at the school.  Obligatory smile, followed by a "are we through yet mommy?  May I go in now?"  Sheesh.  Photo by the door.  Photo by the cubby.  Photo in the room.  DD was doing just fine, until she went to the before/after care room.  One little girl came up to her and said "hi, my name is S!  How are you?"  DD hid in my skirts, er, pants.  The room teacher was so nice; she immediately came up to DD and said "why don't you sit by me this morning, because my daughter is named DD too?"  And off she went.  DH snapped a picture by the door of them sitting in a circle.  And then he got misty eyed.  But I was worse.  I couldn't wait to get out the front door. 

After school, I asked her what the best part of her day was, and she said meeting new friends.  But when I asked her what the worst part of the day was, she said something that stabbed my heart -- "Ms. C said you would be at school when the big hand was on the six, and you weren't."  Ms. C was just wrong; I usually pick up closer to 6:00, not 5:30.  And getting there when I did tonight, at 5:58, was really stressful.  Lots of traffic, lots of rain -- generally awful.

If were only the traffic and the rain, DD's comments wouldn't have upset me so much.  I think I may have mentioned that my first memory of kindergarten was leaving at the end of the day to walk home (I was also an "I can do it myself!" kind of kid) and turning the wrong way.  I was very lost, very alone, and very scared.  The tears welled up in my eyes and made the ground seem even closer than it was to my four year old body.  I can close my eyes and instantly be there, feeling panic, fear, and the burning in my eyes.

My mother, whom I loved very dearly, couldn't be on time to save her life.  (That never changed.)  She said that her parents had come to visit that day (a three hour drive, one way), and that made her late.  But you know, she always had an excuse, and it was always someone else's problem.  She was also pregnant with my brother and in her last trimester, so I imagine that she wasn't moving too fast.

But still.  She should have been there when school let out.  It should have been important enough to her to be on time on that day of all days.  I never forgot it, and I never really forgave her for it.  It's hard to forgive someone who, decades later, also blames you, the four year old, for leaving to walk home without waiting.  (Not one of her finer moments, let me tell you.)

It was important enough to me today.  I left early.  And, even with traffic, I should have arrived fifteen minutes early.  It didn't work out that way, and I was really, really upset, reliving my own memories in spite of myself, projecting those feelings onto DD.

As it turned out, I was two minutes early.  Two measly minutes.  DD was still the last one waiting for a parent.  She told me that there were three other children whose parents had picked them up moments earlier.  So, I thought it would be OK.  Until we snuggled this evening before sleeping, and I asked for her best and worst moment of the day.  And yours truly was responsible for the worst moment of her first day of kindergarten.  So unfair.  Unlike my mom, I really, really tried.  And it didn't matter a whit.  Because I still f*cked up.  The road to hell, as we know, is paved with good intentions.

Except -- after she told me about her worst moment, unlike my mother, I apologized.  And my daughter, my wonderful, wonderful daughter, told me "I forgive you mommy.  I will always forgive you."

Now I just hope that, unlike me, she forgets it too.

Feeling Overwhelmed And Rather Dumb At The Moment

Holy cow.  The kindergarten stuff.  It never stops. 

First, it was the uniforms.  I never wore them, as I am a product of the public schools.  But I don't take issue with them, because I do remember the cliquishness of girl-dom.  Your value as a person was based on the wardrobe your parents could afford.  My parents couldn't afford more than a couple of cool things for me each semester.  The rest was run of the mill.  I was therefore not cool.  So, the uniform requirement at DD's new school strikes me as a good thing.

Except -- while they've told me what to buy, no one has told me how much to buy.  I learned, because I thought to ask, that there is a second-hand market for these uniforms among the parents.  Gently used uniforms piece sell for $5 each, and I was able to purchase a few things that way.  $5, as opposed to $45 per piece.  $45!  Per skirt.  Per pair of pants.  Per jumper.  Blouses may be purchased at J.C. Penney, and I did do that.  I don't know why they couldn't just pick standard fare, like navy pants, skirts, etc.  But no!  We have to go to the official uniform store, where they are not particularly friendly, where I, the frazzled, clueless mom, went and spent an hour and a half trying to figure out what the F*CK I should be buying.  And how much I should be buying.  And, even though I was the only one in the store, every damned time I had a question, I had to hunt down one of the three sales people who always seemed to gravitate toward the back room for the ongoing coffee clutch as soon as possible.  By the end of that visit, I was spitting nails.  But, DD was such an angel.  She tried on whatever I asked, and she kept a good humor.  Unlike me.  And for the privilege of dealing with the disinterested salespeople, I wrote them a check for $450 for the uniform pieces, many of which I probably won't need, because as I said, I'm clueless.  Ugh. 

We just received our "packet."  With 6,000 little requirements, forms, and rule explanations.  And the calendar!  Will I sound exceptionally dumb if I say that it had too many words on it?  Too many entries?  For things that mean nothing to me?  Yet I dutifully entered them into my Groupwise calendar, taking about 15 minutes to do it.  How on earth do parents keep track of more than one school-age child?  May I just take a moment to bow to you in submission for your awesome organization skills.  And, do tell, how do you manage working for a living with all the spring breaks, mid-winter breaks, holiday breaks, summer solstice breaks, phase of the moon breaks, etc.?  They have one whole month of breaks built into this schedule!

Then there is the lunch program.  The school doesn't have a cafeteria, so they use a catered system.  The cost is $3.50 per lunch.  You do not get a refund if they don't have to provide this lunch, for example, if the school is closed for some reason.  And, you must make your selections for the month and pay in advance, or your child is out of luck for the whole month!  Fortunately, we actually looked at the packet when it arrived (late!) and learned that we needed to choose lunches and get the money back in by August 14.  And then there's the breakfast thing.  We are so spoiled -- DD can have breakfast at her current school if she wants.  Not any more.  Seriously, there are people who actually feed their children in the mornings?  Where DO you find the time?  (I'm half-kidding.  DD used to eat a full breakfast at home, and a waffle on the way in if she wanted.  It's the mandatory part that has me smarting at the moment.)  Thank goodness that I don't have to buy school supplies.  I think that it would kill me.

I guess the up side of all of this is that the school is probably exceptionally well-organized.  How else could they put all of this stuff together?  And they do seem nice, though I have gotten the general feeling that their philosophies are a little left of mine.  That really doesn't bother me, as long as the presentations are balanced where appropriate.  Children should choose their own beliefs and view of the world.  But diversity of opinion is very important to me, because I have noticed that DD is very impressionable when it comes to teacher proclamations.  (The silliest example I can think of is that DD's teacher once told them that the color of their blood inside their veins is blue-green, and it turns red when it hits the air.  This is simply untrue, and I talked with the teacher about it, but I was surprised after my internet search how many people believe this.  Yikes.  Yet, DD was absolutely convinced that she had blue-green blood -- because her teacher told her, and it didn't matter a whit what I had to say about it.)

Thank goodness that they have scheduled in a parent orientation.  Somehow, I'm certain that DD is going to be just fine. 

As for me, I'm not so sure.  I guess I'll have to check my calendar.