Our first day of school was a breeze, but during all the planning and orchestrating, I forgot to mourn the fact that my baby boy is in Kindergarten…
until tonight. I just cried a river in my living room.
Mrs. Gore, Facebook, September 6th, 2012
I have to admit, our first day of school was somewhat idyllic, and for the better part of the day, I was floating on the good vibes that had surrounded our entire week of preparation and celebration, and was 100% pleased by how our morning had gone. And since we spent the rest of our day at my Mom and Dad’s house in the country, by the time we returned home late that night, our house was still spotless, ready to welcome us fluidly into Day 2 of our Home Academy adventure.
It was straight to bed for the children, and in a short amount of time, Mr. Gore and I had collapsed into our favorite chairs to watch another episode of “Parks and Recreation” (season 3). I should have been thrilled. The day had been lovely from start to finish, the house was as perfect as it had ever been, and all in all, things could not possibly have gone better during our homeschool debut…
but that’s when I realized I had zoned out and missed the first 3 minutes of our sitcom.
What was I thinking about?
What could possibly distract me from the 20 minutes of humor that I had been looking forward to all evening?…
My thoughts, by this point spiraling out of control.
Gideon is 5 now.
Gideon is in SCHOOL.
I am a teacher now.
I am the lone teacher, janitor, cook, nurse, and daycare provider in my house every morning for…
the rest of my life!!!!
Gideon is in SCHOOL. What happened to my little baby? How am I going to survive him growing up? Why is life so cruel?!…
“Wait!” I said loudly, “Pause it!”
“What? Huh?” Mr. Gore (dumbly) asked.
I put my hand over my face.
“I have no idea what’s going on.” I answered from behind my fingers.
“A cook-off. Remember? They’re having a cook-off.” he replied, gesturing to the TV.
“No. I have no idea what is going on…I haven’t seen one bit of this episode.” I said.
“But…” Mr. Gore hedged.
“Can you rewind it?” I asked, my hand still over my face. It felt safe in there, like I could hold it together if I just kept my hand over my face.
“What’s going on? I’m confused…” my husband asked, suspicion in his voice. He can always tell when I’m about to lose it.
“I just…I just…I just…” I tried to speak…
but it was too late, and the words blurted out in a rush, followed by a Lucy-ish wail, “GIDEON IS IN KINDERGARTEN!!!”
What followed was a 5 to 8 minute rush of tears and blubbering about the quick pace of life, finished up by a confessional wherein I owned up to all of my doubts and fears concerning homeschool, in general, and my capability and selfishness, in particular. Mr. Gore fetched me a tissue and did a decent job of keeping his smirk hidden, listening patiently until I got all of the hysterics out of my system.
It was not pretty, folks, but then, my tears are never really pretty. I hold them at bay until, like a dam bursting forth, they come crashing down and drown me and Mr. Gore in a pool of lament and misery and drama, and yes, a bit of humor; my husband has always called me a caricature of a real person, and we always find something to laugh about, even when I cry. Before too long, we were giggling and back to watching our TV show, although I may or may not have continued to drown my sorrows via the giant glass canister of Multi-grain Cheerio’s in my lap. I can’t remember for sure, but I might have been eating them by the handful (also not pretty).
The morale of this story is, like I mentioned earlier this week, Kindergarten is a rite of passage for youngsters in America – it’s a HUGE deal – and I think it requires a moment of mourning, whether you homeschool or not.
Sure, Gid the Kid went out the back door to leave for school and came in the front door to start school…
but he still went out the back door.