Monday, August 20, 2007

Kahlua, M & M's and Midol make Susan a happy girl

***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.

I need to go refold my kitchen towels.


The Swami said...

One photo. Two cuties. ...Wait a cotton-pickin' minute. That little new-born can't be ready for kindergarten yet.

Oh wait, she's the one who has been teaching her grandparents about the birds and the...butterflies.

She'll be fine.

NatureWoman said...

Susan, you and Geoff have done a great job and she'll be fine.
The Kahlua sounds like a good idea in my book! Mmmmm, just thinking about a Mudslide! Yumm-O. That would totally help the PMS and nervousness!
She'll be fine, and you'll be fine, really, you both will.

Mary said...

And, you wild woman, I'm with ya sista! Been there. I refolded my kitchen towels wiped the countertop obsessively for days before I let Gina go ON A BUS to kindergarten... At the bus stop that morning, Michael had the video camera. I had a huge, damned knot in my throat. What if she comes home crying? What if this or that? What if she is sad and I don't know it? What if she cries or gets lost? I was a little younger than you, back in 1987.

When the bus pulled away, she sat near the window and blew me a kiss with a big, delightful smile on her face. THANK GOD. I walked back home and threw up before I went to work.

You raised some smart, independent girls. They learned a lot from you and Geoff and will speak up when things aren't right. Agree?

Isabelle will love the social time and who knows? She might teach them all something.


Have a shot for me, too :o)

Liza Lee Miller said...

The kids ALWAYS handle it better than the Mom does -- or is that just me?

Kindergarten drop off that first day was HARD. Really, really hard. I cried and cried. Awful! And, I knew she was going to be FANTASTIC there and love it. She was SO ready.

Her teacher -- who is still one of my teaching idols and good friends -- gave out "care packages" to the parents as they dropped off. Man, that's what got me going -- it had tissues and band-aids and a Hershey kiss in it and sad little poem about leaving your baby at kindergarten. I was totally blubbering -- watch out for a tactic like that one!

The one problem that Ruth had was that she was TIRED -- really TIRED when it was over. It was all new stuff -- new school, new procedures, new routines. Sometimes she was so tired she'd just cry at the end of the morning. But, after a couple of weeks, she got used to it all and she'd be fine but that was rough. Ruth is a July baby so she was young for kindergarten.

Every kid is different but there will be an adjustment. ANd, you'll have the most adjusting to do. I remember reading the "getting ready for kindergarten" booklet and crying! :) You are not alone!

Dave said...

And when mine went to school all I could think of was that I could now watch cartoons without them interrupting. :)

Trixie said...

Ahhh....what beautiful baby on your shoulder. I am wondering how your today is going? I'm thinking of you.

dguzman said...

Em went away to 6th grade this year, wearing her size 8 (women's) pants and her size 10 (women's) shoes. My feet are a size 6.5. (won't tell you my pants size, but it's--uh--bigger). What a freakout. Wandering around the house and in her room, sniffing her clothes; opening the fridge and looking at the milk, thinking, "she would be drinking that right now if she were here." Oy vey.

Think I'll go do some more laundry. And sniff her clothes one more time.

Cathy said...

Ow. This brought back 35 year old memories. Ow. We do survive, though - and actually thrive. Why does it have to be so danged hard. And sweet Mary actually threw up. Dang.

The only benefit to aging is the cessation of PMS. I celebrate the end of that scourge. OK - also - maybe the little bit of wisdom we garner over the years.

I hear the school buses going down the street even as I type. Oh, my - brings it all back.

(I had to get over here and comment - you cracked me up over at Lynne's at Hasty Brook.)