Facing our First Day of Kindergarten

“I know, Bun-Bun, I’ll miss you, too.” We were driving back from Kindergarten Roundup last spring, and my five year old was engaged in serious conversation with her favorite stuffy, a well-loved bunny. “I’ll be at Kindergarten,” she explained to Bun-Bun as we sped down the expressway. “So I won’t be there for lunch, but I’ll be home for dinner. Don’t worry, Bun-Bun. While I’m gone, Unicorn will be with you to babysit you.”

Fast-forward five months. A very, very fast forward. Now as we speak, my oldest is settling into her new home away from home, a lovely kindergarten classroom of 19 eager students at a Lutheran grade school.

“I’m not going to handle this so well,” said my husband, who thankfully was able to adjust his work schedule so that he will be dropping her off and picking her up. “It’s going to be tough.”

It will be a huge adjustment for my middle daughter, too. Being only eighteen months apart in age, they do everything together.

My almost two year old, meanwhile, is eager to seize her opportunity, take over, and become the new hen in charge of the roost.

Don’t let the angelic smile fool you. It just means she’ll be a benevolent dictator.

And what about Mom?

Five and a half years ago, my stay-at-home mom adventure began when my oldest arrived. We were the Dynamic Duo. Soon my middle daughter joined us and we became the Three Musketeers. Twenty five months later, my rambunctious youngest came along, and the Fearsome Foursome tackled together the chaotic grocery shopping trips, the potty training, the bedtime drama, and just everyday life, now exponentially more complicated than it was five years prior, but also (most of the time) more fun.

These three little ones have been right by my side (or in my lap, or climbing on my head, etc.) almost every moment of every day, whether I had everything happily under control…

…or not so much.

This calling has schooled me in true reliance on the Lord’s limitless strength. I have heard it on good authority (Mom friends who have Mom friends with 4, 5, 6 kids or more!) that the hardest season of momhood is when you’re caring for three little ones at home and none are school age yet. As helpful as the older siblings are–and my sweet, serious oldest is as helpful as she possibly can be–they are still little. They still do things like try to get a snack for their younger sibling and spill the yogurt all over the floor while prying the top off, then scoop it from the dirty floor with handy tortilla chips and plop the mess onto the table.

Here I have to mention, though, that definitely it can be harder…like it is for moms with multiples, or moms who are caring for a child or children with special needs. My prayers are with you! Or moms who are homeschooling and figuring out what to do with, say, a three year old and an infant while teaching an ever more rigorous curriculum.

For me in my circumstances, though, I can’t think of anything more gratifying than to have gotten my oldest to this point. She’s ready. She’s determined to be ready. This is how she chose to spend her time after dinner yesterday evening, Kindergarten Eve.

Then her aunt called with a kindergarten story to read to her via Facetime. She told her aunt proudly that she had made two friends at Safety Town (a fantastic day camp over the summer for incoming kindergartners to learn school bus and traffic safety, etc.). She still remembered their names, because God gave her a very good memory, as she often tells us.

She is ready mentally, emotionally, socially and spiritually for a wonderful kindergarten year. We didn’t even have any trouble getting her up this morning at 6:05. She and Mom have been practicing. The past several days, I’ve been waking her early to help her adjust.

Each morning she has popped out of bed quickly, eager to start a new day. I’m the one who needed the adjustment period, as it turns out. To help myself ease into the day, I started a morning routine of snuggling on the couch together under a soft fleece blanket, as the morning sun comes up, and mist slowly dissipates over the soybean fields outside our front window.

This morning, as I cuddled my oldest under our Paw Patrol blanket, little by little the fog cleared from my head, and my heart lightened. I knew that I was ready to let her go. I took comfort in knowing that I’ll always be her first teacher; I’ll always be her first friend. She’s ready now for new teachers, new friends, and a whole new world outside.