I started this post this morning after dropping Ryan at school, but decided it was way more fun to hang out with my dear Mom S instead of finishing it. So I decided to wait and finish it later. It's later. A post on how the day actually went, as well as something particularly awesome that Richie said and kinda did, will catch up with us tomorrow.
The first day of first grade, as far as I know, is underway successfully. It went as well as it could have gone on our end. We got daddy off to work at seven, just like he wanted. Ryan woke little more sleepy-eyed than usual, but ate his breakfast without an argument just the same. We did things just like we did last year, save the tooth brushing time. We brushed teeth four minutes earlier than last year. 7:45 rather than 7:49.
Out of the house without incident, we fought the only rush hour in Groesbeck. The school parking lot was overflowing with vehicles of all shapes and sizes, parents and kids dressed in their first-day finery walking into school, some stopping outside for a quick shot with the school sign.
The traffic was ridiculous. Bumper to bumper doesn't quite express the craziness. I didn't see any rage, however, and I am impressed with our little town for that. A bit annoyed, I made my way through the insanity to the drop off circle part of the traffic tree. We were literally the only car in the drop off line. At least one of the ladies helping kids get out of cars was the same as last year. And that's when it hit me.
I wasn't annoyed at the traffic. I wasn't annoyed at having to wait. I had nowhere else to go but home for once, and Richie and Maelynn were at home with Grammy, who graciously came all the way down here to make sure Richie didn't have to get out and run around in his post-op-ness. Especially when we have to take Ryan to therapy today. Too much running around for a kid who's not supposed to be back at school yet, according to the hospital instructions. But if it wasn't traffic, it wasn't the wait, it wasn't fussy kids in the van... what was it?
Jealousy.
I want to be the mom parking wherever so I can walk my little buddy into school. I want to be the mom standing in front of the school taking pictures of my boy in his new clothes and pristine backpack. I want to be making this special, too. But the best way to do things for everyone else isn't the best way for us.
Ryan is somewhat like a train. He needs to be put squarely on the rails. If I start him somewhere else, then tell him to change the next day, it's not going to end well. He needs the comfort of the track. And greater is my desire to see him successful than my desire to make my parenting dream come true... or at least I'm finally able to overcome and just do it. Or even realize that it has to be done that way.
I don't understand why, but we're all different. What's great parenting for you might throw my kid completely off and upset him. If I tried to put Ryan through taking picture out in front of the school, or even in the yard, he'd be screaming before I managed to get him into the van. If I walk him into class, I'd better be ready to do that every day. But that's not the way I was as a kid. I'd have wanted my mom to walk me into the room. I'd have been quite upset if she didn't.
But Ryan? Although he can't express it, he's going to feel a lot more loved if I operate in a way I know he'll be happiest, rather than cater to my own desires. Because for us, it's a little more than just embarrassing him a touch. It could tank the whole day and slow the process of getting acclimated to a new school year.
Honestly, if I were in your shoes, taking pictures with your sweet ones on their shiny-new first day, I'd look at me... the mom kicking her kid out in the regular ol' drop off line just like it was any other day... and feel sorry. But the truth is that I'd love to be able to do what you're doing. This is just what love looks like for my first grader.
Thanks be to God for diversity, for we learn so much in the quest for understanding.
The first day of first grade, as far as I know, is underway successfully. It went as well as it could have gone on our end. We got daddy off to work at seven, just like he wanted. Ryan woke little more sleepy-eyed than usual, but ate his breakfast without an argument just the same. We did things just like we did last year, save the tooth brushing time. We brushed teeth four minutes earlier than last year. 7:45 rather than 7:49.
Out of the house without incident, we fought the only rush hour in Groesbeck. The school parking lot was overflowing with vehicles of all shapes and sizes, parents and kids dressed in their first-day finery walking into school, some stopping outside for a quick shot with the school sign.
The traffic was ridiculous. Bumper to bumper doesn't quite express the craziness. I didn't see any rage, however, and I am impressed with our little town for that. A bit annoyed, I made my way through the insanity to the drop off circle part of the traffic tree. We were literally the only car in the drop off line. At least one of the ladies helping kids get out of cars was the same as last year. And that's when it hit me.
I wasn't annoyed at the traffic. I wasn't annoyed at having to wait. I had nowhere else to go but home for once, and Richie and Maelynn were at home with Grammy, who graciously came all the way down here to make sure Richie didn't have to get out and run around in his post-op-ness. Especially when we have to take Ryan to therapy today. Too much running around for a kid who's not supposed to be back at school yet, according to the hospital instructions. But if it wasn't traffic, it wasn't the wait, it wasn't fussy kids in the van... what was it?
Jealousy.
I want to be the mom parking wherever so I can walk my little buddy into school. I want to be the mom standing in front of the school taking pictures of my boy in his new clothes and pristine backpack. I want to be making this special, too. But the best way to do things for everyone else isn't the best way for us.
Ryan is somewhat like a train. He needs to be put squarely on the rails. If I start him somewhere else, then tell him to change the next day, it's not going to end well. He needs the comfort of the track. And greater is my desire to see him successful than my desire to make my parenting dream come true... or at least I'm finally able to overcome and just do it. Or even realize that it has to be done that way.
I don't understand why, but we're all different. What's great parenting for you might throw my kid completely off and upset him. If I tried to put Ryan through taking picture out in front of the school, or even in the yard, he'd be screaming before I managed to get him into the van. If I walk him into class, I'd better be ready to do that every day. But that's not the way I was as a kid. I'd have wanted my mom to walk me into the room. I'd have been quite upset if she didn't.
But Ryan? Although he can't express it, he's going to feel a lot more loved if I operate in a way I know he'll be happiest, rather than cater to my own desires. Because for us, it's a little more than just embarrassing him a touch. It could tank the whole day and slow the process of getting acclimated to a new school year.
Honestly, if I were in your shoes, taking pictures with your sweet ones on their shiny-new first day, I'd look at me... the mom kicking her kid out in the regular ol' drop off line just like it was any other day... and feel sorry. But the truth is that I'd love to be able to do what you're doing. This is just what love looks like for my first grader.
Thanks be to God for diversity, for we learn so much in the quest for understanding.
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