I handle change the same way the girl at the nail salon handles me telling her 84 times that I do not want a design… by completely ignoring it. So when it came to approaching the first day of school… the first day of sending 2/3 of my descendants, those which I held for 1,456,782 hours as they screamed in my arms for the first months of their earthly lives, the ones who I nursed from my bosom, the ones that are the only reason I have even one tenth of a pinch of patience, and more importantly, one who was rather emotional at kindergarten round-up… I shut down. I was in complete denial.
When it comes to change, I am often more nervous than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. It has gotten much better over time. When, on more than one occasion as a child, I apparently went to the school nurse because I was “having a heart attack”, I suppose I had nowhere to go but up. As an adult, I feel like I’m much more level-headed about most things. But as a mom, it feels like there are times where my old penchant for anxiety revives itself. Sometimes even breathing makes me nervous. I mean, what if I just forget one day? I kid, I kid. But this aversion to change does not bode well for my ability to handle things like sending my offspring, two beings which bore out of the very uterus that inhabits my body, out into the world.
Think I’m coo coo for cocoa puffs? Well, I’d say to you, times have changed. Because you can’t just go to the store and buy a Lisa Frank Trapper Keeper, some glittery retractable pencils, and Five Star notebooks and call it a day. There are specifics on the school supply situation… Fisker scissors, number 2 yellow pencils sharpened, solid colored pencil boxes. And then there’s the lunch situation… you can send a lunch and if it does have peanut butter, your children can sit in one area, and if it doesn’t, they can sit with the castaways as though they’re moonlighting on Gilligan’s Island … OR… you can totally do hot lunch… and figure out, which of the three options your child would like for the day and hope that the choice he makes in the morn is the same choice he remembers at lunch. For Barrett, there are also different daily schedules depending on which specials they have and so that requires making sure they have certain footwear and clothing depending on the activity. And then there’s the Mt. Everest of change. The 367 step process to leave off and then retrieve the children. At the very first realization of all of these changes coming at once, I nearly scooped up my children and flew off to Botswana to live in a hut. I hear Botswana is really nice this time of year. And surely, in Botswana, I wouldn’t have to worry that sending the wrong Art shirt would result in not getting into Harvard.
But then I came to my senses. Yes. There’s a good bit of rigmarole to the whole kid in school thing. But most of it, for good, necessary, vital reasons: they pool together the school supplies for everyone to use. there are kiddos with very serious food allergy issues. and of course, if there were no rules for the pick-up and drop-off situation, parents would likely die at the hands of other parents, daily. Or at least be forever scarred by the use of honking horns and the middle finger. And the PTO would really struggle to recruit with less parents. So, it all had to happen. And I realized, there was no escaping reality. My children would be headed to school.
And with that reality, I channeled the words from my first runner-up performance at the Harper Schramm Smith Karaoke Contest of 2000, and decided, I will survive. And I did. But it was not without some effort. It took several steps to get from avoidance to reality. And here’s how it all played out:
// Having already shored up all the necessary details {paperwork, school supplies, backpack, towel, new clothes, lunch bag, and purchasing paper bag for hyperventilation} fairly early due to the intense fear that I would miss some vital piece of the school puzzle, the two weeks prior to school, I was in full avoidance mode. I avoided all reality by focusing only on playing with my children all day {gasp. I suppose I shouldn’t admit that that isn’t always all I do every day}, and letting the house go to complete hooey. And I’m serious here, I don’t think I moved a piece of folded laundry for two weeks straight. Which resulted in my living room couch becoming a makeshift armoire. And there was definitely a pepperoni stuck to the floor earlier today and we’ve not had pizza for at least 6 days.
// I also successfully put any extra focus on a baby project. If I focused on the wee one, the one who still desperately needs me, then I could ignore the fact that my other children were basically teenagers. Enter, cry-it-out. A whole other blog post in and of itself, but yep, it was a go.
// I also started drinking again. No. I didn’t become Sally Sloppydrunk but I did get a chance to remember how delicious an adult bevi can be. I guess it probably isn’t very motherly to say such things but honestly, I like a nice cold beer and while I really don’t imbibe too often while nursing, the hubs and I cracked a few cold brews over the last week and it was basically fantastic. I had more anxiety than a 16 year old boy on prom night {not my boys, no. Never my boys. Eek.} so chillin’ just a bit with my homey at homes was golden.
// I spent random money. I don’t recommend this one. I took the boys to Barnes and Noble the other day with the intention of letting them pick out a book, each. A treat for starting the school. I ended up buying them every book they wanted. They’re books, I told myself. It’s the last week it will be like this, I told myself. And when my husband just asked where this line item should be budgeted, I responded, “momma’s anxiety fund”. This may have also happened at Hollywood Candy. And may have also resulted in a few lunches out last week for the band of brothers. Because you know, things would never be the same again. This was also to blame for the mother of all weak momemnt answers of yes to the questions, would you like a manicure and you want shellac while out getting a pedicure I avoid reality. There went my pocket cash.
// I snuggled, hugged, kissed, stared, and told my two oldest boys that I love them about 4,654 more times a day than I already had been. I would stare at them and take mental pictures all day with the thought that this is the last time THIS is going to happen… I did my duty to be as annoying as possible just so I could fill up their love tanks before the first day arrived. So much so that if they were any older, I think they would have questioned if it was my last week on earth. The things we do for our kids.
// I found a buddy. This summer, another mom reached out to me. A mom in the exact same place as me. One who would be sending her first of three sons off to kindergarten. At the same school. And also shares my sensitivity to change. Match made in heaven. She and I could temper each other’s nerves and also throw questions back and forth. And let the hubs off the hook for having to hear for the 18th time how the mere thought of the drop-off and pick-up procedures gives me hives. Per the uzh, there’s safety and confidence in numbers. Just what the doctor ordered.
// We got out the red plate. Perhaps the first real sign of acceptance, the red plate is unearthed for the big types of days in our house. So when we got it out the night before school started, it was a sign that avoidance was no longer an option.
// I accepted reality. Agh. It was going to happen whether I was ready or not. One would be going to kindergarten, and one to pre-school, all on the same day. We were ripping off the band-aid. And so, I decided, once the day arrived, that I must force myself to be there, in the moment of it all, enjoying it. I must watch my kid’s excitement on their faces. And must capture that moment for safe keeping. Because it was over, just. like. that. And I did. And it was really good. And filled me with so much joy.
All that worrying. Preparation. And anxiety. And it all went famously. And I have an inkling that it would have gone the same had I taken a daily chill pill. But that’ll have to wait until first grade arrives.
If your kiddos started school this week… Congrats, you are surviving so far {even though we nearly upgraded to DEFCON 4 last night due to full and total meltdown city. My children are giving me so much easy blog fodder these days.}! And if they start next week, crack open a cold one — beer, diet coke, Zevia, or otherwise — sit back, and relish the moment.
Did or do you have anxiety about sending your kiddos off into the world… whether it be school, daycare, or on the road with the circus? Do you handle change with open arms or pounding fists?
You might also like
