Today was Memmy’s Saturday School.
Last night he was NOT going. He was NOT going to Saturday School because he was NOT going to kindergarten.
If I were another mother, I would not have pushed the issue. I teach preschool. I know better than to make a big deal out of something that isn’t a big deal but could be a really big deal if you make it a big deal. (Follow that?) But I did push a little.
“Oh, let’s go. It’s going to be fun!” Still not going.
“Maybe you’ll see G or K or E.” Still not going.
Then I pulled out the truth.
“Mommy has to go. I was supposed to be working for Saturday School, but my boss said I could just be your Mom instead. If I don’t get to take you, then I’ll have to go and work.” Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the whole truth. I wouldn’t have gone alone if he all out refused. The responsibilities had already been assigned so my slack was already taken up. I saw him processing. He didn’t refuse, but he didn’t say he would go either. I told him he could decide in the morning. I was hoping he was just tired and would see the light of reason with the dawn. I began formulating Plan B. I have a close friend who had a very full Saturday. Maybe she would let me take her son. Be his aunt of sorts? Plan B helped me fall asleep.
Amazingly the night’s sleep erased the semi-big deal we had discussed the night before. He put on his “handsome” clothes and even wanted his hair gelled. We got to the kindergarten building on time. First thing the parents go in the cafeteria for a “meeting” while the kids play in the gym. His preschool teacher peeled him screaming from my leg. Not the best start.
I did my best not to cry in the meeting. Here I am the one who is always telling the mommies and daddies that it will be okay and it was not okay. I made it through with no tears and followed my command to go meet my child in the gym. I felt like a kindergartener who needed someone to hold my hand.
Our tour started with a snack in the cafeteria. I have never seen a chocolate chip cookie that I couldn’t eat until this morning. Trying to hide my fear I said with my voice full of awe and pride, “Dude, you look old sitting here!”
He leaned over to me, eyes shining. He pulled my ear toward him with an obviously conspiratory grin. He whispered, almost giggling with excitement,
“I feel like 16.”
Inside, I felt like 5. We both felt good.