First day of Kindergarten: Mommy vs. The Monster

First day of Kindergarten: Mommy vs. The Monster

Madeline is heading off to kindergarten. She is ridiculously ready for her new challenge. I have spent many nights lying in bed next to her probing for any apprehensions she may choose to confess. Nothing! “I’m not worried mom, it’s gonna be great. I’m gonna make new friends and I’m gonna learn lots of stuff and you are gonna be so proud.” Yes, my mommy, I mean my daughter, has assured me that kindergarten is going to be great and I, I mean she, is going to be just fine.

The night before her kindergarten screening, we talked about what would be expected of her the next day in her very first school experience. I wasn’t really sure myself, but I was confident that she would pass with flying colors. What I did not know was that she was going to stand so tall, look these new strangers right in the eye, speak clearly and confidently when spoken to and remember her manners with no prompting. I sat in awe watching my child glide gracefully from station to station meeting new people and answering new questions, eager to move on and conquer the next and seemingly waiting for the hard stuff.

I was soon informed that there would be a special “first day of school” for kindergartners and their parents. Moms and dads were invited to ride the bus that first day with their child and to spend the day with them at school helping us all to learn the ropes together. I was ecstatic. Gone were the days of sending our most valued possession off into the “real world” all alone while we sit home wondering if they can handle their new role of “student”. Parents don’t have to worry about peeling their child off of their leg and abandoning the tear soaked faces of their little ones. We don’t have to wonder if they are eating lunch all alone or wandering around the playground aimless and friendless. I however, had been fairly content knowing that none of this would be a problem with my daughter. No, my problem would arise only now with this new development. Would my very independent daughter allow me to get on that school bus with her and hang around all day?

Yes, my daughter has far exceeded my expectations of growing into a strong, autonomous little girl. But in my relentless efforts to raise a young lady who is courageous, confident and self-reliant, I have created a bit of a monster, and I imagine this monster surfacing right there on that school bus when those doors close behind us and I am still on it. I fear its wrath when we arrive at her new school and enter her classroom, and I pull up a chair and attempt to blend in before the monster notices that I am still there. “Mom, you can go now”, she will politely suggest, as usual, while trying to contain the monster who is about to spit fire and demand that I get off her turf. This is about the time when I usually oblige and appease the monster who typically lurks around daycare, the grandparents houses and all of her friends houses. These are her territories, and there is no room or need for mom.

I have attempted to prepare her for my looming presence on her big day. I have expressed how much fun we are going to have together, and she has flat out replied that moms don’t go to kindergarten. I have explained that this is just one special day and it’s going to be great, to which she responds with only an eerie silence and a fiery, piercing, we’ll-see-about-that glance from the rousing monster.

Well, I too can be brave and courageous, and I have every intention of taking on the beast of insistent independence. I am confident that my desire to watch my daughter take on her new challenges is more than powerful enough to conquer the monster. Anyway, I use to be the master of invisibility when I was little and those nighttime monsters came out of the closet or from under my bed. I’m pretty sure I can conjure up this magic power again for the sake on my impending beaming pride! I wouldn’t miss this for anything.