Bode

Me to people: "I'm Bode's preschool teacher!"

People: "REALLY?! How? Why?!"

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Yes, not many people could imagine themselves being their child's teacher. But last year when I started it just worked. Looking back now I think it was because I started at the end of the year when Bode already had made school his own. I slid in, there were a few minor adjustments, then we found a groove. 

This year the groove was nowhere to be found. I chalked the first hard days up to transition. Then fatigue. Then...? But let me tell you, it's hard to have "Take Your Child to Work Day" every day. And it's hard to have "Take Your Mom to School Day" every day too.

So, we made a change. And it's good for both of us. Bode is going to a different preschool. Now I drop him off and get a few minutes in the car by myself to put on my "teacher" hat. And I get the opportunity to miss him while he's away from me. And he gets the opportunity to experience hard things and life for a few hours alone. It feels good. It feels right. But it also feels sad. Like the day when I went to check his cubby at school and it was empty. Or when his friends at school kept asking where he was. Or when it was picture day and he wasn't in the picture because it was his first day at his new school. 

Or, when I wrote him his first note in his lunch box:

...and when I watched him walk into the lunch classroom and not know where to sit. He looked awkwardly back at me and I wanted to scoop him up and call the whole thing off. But I keep hearing Glennon Doyle (a favorite author/speaker)'s voice in my head saying "run to the pain. Don't save your kids from the hard stuff." So I remind myself that it's good.

From this new preschool he'll take away some independence and resilience.

Oh, and pink eye. He'll also take home pink eye.

HELLOOOO CONJUNCTIVITIS! 

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