Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Today was Robbie's first day of his second year of kindergarten. When we told him in July that he'd be repeating kindergarten, he took it pretty well. But last night, when I was laying down with him at bedtime, we were talking about the first day of school, he said, "I really wish I was going to first grade."
Ouch. I know, he'll thank us for this someday.
Then on the way to his classroom this morning, he saw one of his little buddies from last year. "Are you in Miss F's class?" Robbie asked his friend. The little boy looked at him, perplexed and I worried that Robbie would be lonely for his old friends.
Once in the classroom, he found his locker, hung up his backpack, gave me a quick kiss and went to find a spot on the carpet. I watched as he circled the group of kids already sitting on the floor. He seemed to be looking for someone he knew. I could feel my cheeks getting hot and my eyes watering as I watched him seek a place to fit in.
"Please, God, let him make friends," I prayed.
Eyeing a couple of boys he does know, he walked toward the back of the group and squeezed in next to one of them. What I wanted to do at that point was go over, pick him up and ask for a "hug and a kiss and a big squeeze," which is kind of our thing.
But I knew it was time to go -- and to let go. To let him settle in to this familiar, yet new, classroom. To give him a chance to show the new kindergarteners the ropes and to build some confidence in the process.
So I turned to leave, choking back tears that I hadn't expected to be there and hoping this was the first day of a great year.