***Warning! Neurotic mother-rant coming!***
I think I am such a cool customer. I can handle really crazy stuff. I've been called a hard-ass (Just yesterday, my Mom called me that).
But today, I am rattled. Tomorrow, I will be taking Isabelle to her new school to begin a screening process to determine what teacher she should with. It's not her first "official" day of kindergarten, but she will be away from me from 8:30 am to 3:30 pm, and she will be coming home on a school bus.
I got an inkling of what this was going to be like when she started preschool. Away from our influence, being cared for by strangers (nice strangers, but strangers nonetheless).
The baby I carried inside me during 9/11, the child that changed our lives for the better, the brilliant, independent prankster who makes me laugh every day, is leaving the nest.
I asked her how she felt about kindergarten. At the end of last school year, she was bouncing off the walls (and so was I), thinking of all the big-kid stuff she would be doing. Now, she is nervous (and so am I). And excited (and so am I).
What if she cries? What if she has to go to the bathroom and is afraid to ask? What if she misses me?
I have folded, unfolded, and re-folded my kitchen towels 17 times.
And I am having a raging case of PMS. Ain't life grand? I feel like a badger on PCP.
Or a Grizzly with hemorrhoids. Or a hummingbird with a hernia.
If I don't kill anyone today, I will be counting my blessings.
I have M & M's. Okay. Breathe, Susan. Breathe.
I was so jazzed this summer, thinking of the girls going back to school. Lorelei will be gone two days a week, from 9:00 am to 1:00 pm. It's the same school she went to last year, and I find myself rather relaxed about that.
But Isabelle will be gone five days a week, from 8:30 am to 3:30 pm, riding a bus driven by someone I don't know. In a school that has way older children, some of them bound to be bullies.
I think Isabelle will adjust a lot sooner than I will.
Where's the flippin' Midol ????
But you know what is keeping me on track, thinking that we are doing the right thing for her?
At least she isn't being unschooled.
I have a bottle of Kahlua just waiting for me to open it. I have saved it for some reason, and I think that reason is now clear.