The prompt this week was about the start of school, and
sending someone (or something?) to school. We were to write from the viewpoint
of the sender, not the sendee. Those first days can be exciting or traumatic or
even both, and not just for the kids!
School Days
MONDAY
Today is my daughter Mara’s first day of school. Of course,
that’s a big deal for her, but it’s an even bigger deal for me. I’m the one who
has to stay home and worry all day about her. Why, you ask? Let me explain. When
I sent her to nursery school, she had a great time with all the kids. In kindergarten,
she was with the same group of children, and had a wonderful year. First, second,
and third grades were a dream come true, because living in a small town, that
same group of children stayed together year after year, and Mara was able to
maintain all her friendships. Then, in the middle of fourth grade, it all came
apart.
My husband is in the Army. Now, do you see the problem? He
was transferred to a new city in a new state, so a new school was on the
horizon. She would have to continue fourth grade in a different school in the
company of strangers, and would be miserable for the rest of her life. Those weren’t
my feelings, they were Mara’s, so I tried to be as upbeat as I could as I
walked her to the bus. I had offered to drive her to school on the first day,
or even for the first week, but she would have no part of that. According to my
daughter, her life was going to end anyway, but having Mommy drop her off in
front of the other kids would cause it to end sooner. I walked her to the bus;
then, went home and cried.
TUESDAY
Monday night went badly. Mara got off the bus, went in the
house, and locked herself in her room. I thought I’d attempt to communicate
pre-bus this morning.
“Mara, how did school go yesterday? Did you meet anyone new?”
“Teacher told the class I was new, told them my name, and
asked them to show me around. Why didn’t she just kill me then and there?”
“Honey, she was just trying to make you feel welcome, and to
involve the other kids.”
“I threw up on the bus on the way home.”
Mara got on the bus, and I went home and cried.
WEDNESDAY
We got the silent treatment again Tuesday night. I thought about
calling her teacher, but remembered my own mother doing just that. The next
day, my teacher announced to my class that my mommy called her because she was
worried, and that she wanted the kids to be friends with me. It was several
months before the kids stopped laughing at me, so I decided to let time work
its magic. Walking to the bus this morning, I tried again.
“How was school yesterday? Did you have a lot of homework
last night? You went to bed quite late.”
“Teacher gave us a lot. I had to read a whole chapter. Susie
and Kevin said she does that a lot.”
Susie and Kevin? Mara got on the bus, and I went home and
cried.
THURSDAY
Wednesday night, Mara had dinner in the dining room with her
father and me, and then went to her room to do her homework. Her bedroom door
wasn’t slammed or even closed. It stayed open all night.
We chatted on the way to the bus this morning.
“What does your teacher have planned for today, Mara?
Anything special?”
“Susie and Kevin and Molly and Tim said Thursdays are easy.
We get to read form our favorite book and say what we liked about it. Here
comes my bus. Bye.”
Susie and Kevin AND Molly and Tim? Mara got on the bus, and I
went home and cried.
FRIDAY
Thursday night, we all had dinner together and even played
some board games. Mara went on and on about Brian and Mary and Josie and… I
cried myself to sleep Thursday night. My husband kept asking me what was wrong,
and I told him everything was right. He was confused, but I said I would
explain later.
This morning’s walk to the bus left me concerned. Mara had quite
a serious air about her. She wasn’t angry or upset; she just seemed extremely
determined.
“Honey, is something wrong? Do you feel all right? Is
something bothering you?”
“I’m okay, but this new girl started yesterday. She just moved
here and had to start school in the middle of the year. Teacher told us all she
was new and all that stuff, you know, so the new girl felt abarr…ebarr…umbarrassed.
So, at recess, I took her over by the fence and told her teacher was just
trying to make her feel welcome, and avol…evolve the other kids. I was just
trying to figure out how I’m going to get her into some stuff today cause I
told her me and my friends would show her around.”
Wow. Buckle up, folks. It’s a good thing I carry tissues in
my coat pocket…
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