Today was orientation day for North's preschool. This evening I went to meet the other parents and hear about the practices and policies of the school. Earlier in the day, North and I (with Skyler) spent 1/2 hour in the classroom meeting his teacher and picking out a cubby.
I feel a little emotional about this.
This is my kid going off to school, preschool, the age in which I consider kids to be grown-up enough to be in the care of other adults. As I listened to the teacher list off the ways that crying kids are helped and comforted, all I could think was, "you are going to let my kid cry and not call me back in?"
So not the attitude I had when I was a kid-less teacher myself. I was of the "push the parents out the door and their kids will work it all out'" branch of teachers.
I am not worried about North's interactions with other kids (although he did use the Tiger Claw this morning when another child moved his blocks) or his ability to communicate with others. What I feel is a impending emptiness in the space in which he has occupied for the past 2 1/2 years, next to me every second of the day. I know what I feel is normal and will soon be resolved. Maybe I might even transition into "what! Summer vacation already?" but give me a moment to mourn.
Part of the memory surge comes from the location of his school. The CDL is part of the greater college campus. This evening, before the orientation meeting, Reed and I switched kids and cars. I used the bathroom in one of the college buildings and as I sat I reflected on the quietness of the moment.
I was alone.
No toddler perched on my knee, no telling North not to touch anything or "yes, I have enough paper, thank you anyway." Could I take a moment to pretend to be a college student again?
At that time, I just wanted to be finished with my degree so I could live on my own time. No more committee meetings, papers or trying to fit work hours in. I was so tired of sitting and listening to talk, talk, talk. I wanted to live a greater, more practical life. As time went on and I graduated, much was achieved on a fairly predictable path with greater confidence and wisdom learned from experiences that a classroom can never teach.
But, I do miss that quiet mind. I was an open, dark space, eager for all kinds of information. Now as I try to remember whether the kids have eaten all the food groups and "did I brush both kids teeth today?" and "rats, we are out of honey again", I feel as if I am battling schizophrenia. (Note to my parents: I am TOTALLY healthy!)
And now North is on the campus as a student of his own school. A school in which as a HSU student I thought was boring to work at (the kids didn't have many behavior issues), but now as a parent I have a greater appreciation for. North will be surrounded by very well-educated head teachers and a fleet of college students who will be under the watchful eye of some of my previous college professors. I couldn't ask for a better educational situation.
But I just might be calling up my mom after I walk out that door next week as I leave North.