Lunch box. Check.
New clothes. Check.
Milk stash in the freezer. Check.
Cute bag to store the pump in. Check.
Nanny schedule. Grandma schedule. Pizza Friday form. Check. Check. Check.
Its almost here. The first day of school. Many of you have had it already. I’m still in this weird phase of shock and awe. 6 months ago I would never have guessed we’d be here. But we’re here. Dream job, dream school, my big boy and I starting our next new adventure, together.
The classroom is prepped. E is excited. D is old enough that I don’t feel completely terrible leaving him. All the ducks are in a row. 🦆🦆🦆
And yet there is this lingering feeling of sadness. Of “Wait! Not yet! Not us!”.
Parent night is tonight. I’ll be helping out in my classroom, presenting to new and returning parents. Hubby will represent our fam in E’s classroom. I’ll look at the anxious eyes of mums and dads across from me, wanting to know all the important details of what their child’s day will be like, wanting to know that Rita will have the chance to play in the sandbox, and Miley will have someone to remind her to eat her carrots, and Jo will have someone to hold his hand down the stairs because he still has wobbly legs. And I hope they will look at my eyes and see the same worry, but also the reassurance that yes, I will be there for your child when you are not. I will smile at them when they do something challenging and new for the first time. I will comfort them when they feel lonely and out of sorts. I will help them navigate new friendships. And I will trust that the teachers in E’s room and the nanny at home with D will do the same for them.
I’m not really ready for this day. But through all of my years teaching, I know I never really could be. It’s exciting, and scary, and new, and emotional, and I am open to it all.