Well here we are again. Tomorrow is the first day of school. I'm exceptionally enthusiastic about this year for a number of reasons, the foremost being that I feel organized and uncharacteristically prepared for the first time in my history as a mom.
I've spent the last couple weeks in the sort of nesting mode I only experienced while pregnant. But since my youngest starts kindergarten this year, I'm nesting differenlty--in a way that prepares me for their departure (i.e. kicking them out of the nest). I mean that both in jest and with remorse. I love my children and I love/hate them getting older. I feel tethered between wanting them to grow more independently (which in the short term feels like less work for me) while at the same time I want them to still need me. I like, for example, not having to wipe their bums yet I still want them to hold my hand by choice (once they wash it after wiping their own bum, of course). I realize the days of holding hands are numbered. But because a learn-as-you-go-and-apply-where-necessary strategy dominates my parenting style, I constantly sail in unchartered waters--especially with my oldest since he helps me pave the way. How does one balance closeness with autonomy?
The good news about school starting is that I have made some dramatic improvements from last year. The first day of school left me feeling like I was picked up and spit out by a tornado. I walked out the door wearing slippers, my kids wore clothes that were too big, too small and maybe just a little bit over worn. Last year I felt like a loser. My husband owns a business that requires him to be gone a lot of the time so I'm on my own to make sure the kids don't look or act like heathens, are well fed, and mostly clean. Those tasks alone will likely remain daunting to me forever.
Being a mom is more work than I ever imagined or thought I was capable of doing. How does a mom have time to do ANYTHING other than feed, clean, wash, sleep, repeat? I get why people eat Mac and cheese. I also get why moms love wine. To make delicious, nutrient-dense food for 3 growing boys feels a lot like feeding a black hole; the work is constant and never ends. I'm so grateful that we are obligated as a family to remain committed to food-based-medicine. But man am I tired this week! School has officially kicked my butt!
I worry about Alder every damn day of every school year. Watching him struggle to feel like he belongs is like watching a deer get hit by a car. Painful and horrible yet unfortunately familiar (I live in Montana and deer are feral like cats on a farm). His teacher said he wanders off alone and struggles to engage with the class. When I asked him about interacting with his peers he told me that he's "just not like them." That he feels, "different" and would never belong. And then my heart exploded in 4 million pieces. His tears were full of anxiety and fear and I wanted to swallow him whole so he never had to feel that sad or afraid again. And then I look at my other children--social, articulate, ordinary--and I don't know how to make sense of my life. And then I secretly want to turn into a bear so I can hibernate for several months, catch up on my sleep and maybe wake up and everyone's problems are solved and I wasn't the one troubleshooting. I imagine we all have our own version of this fantasy...
The day was long and my heart and eyes are heavy. Yet I can't help but wonder with curiosity, not judgement, what tomorrow can offer. After all, with every new day comes a new slate.
Comments
Post a Comment