Confession

I have always loved fall--it's my favorite season. A few weeks back, I thought about the coming of fall and felt a familiar tug in my gut. Being in an introspective mood, I analyzed that tug and realized that it is the juxtaposition of excitement and foreboding or otherwise known as CHANGE. Fall just happens to be the time when school restarts--when summer things are put behind us and a march forward begins--when we are suddenly thrust out of our complacency and perpetual peace to a new world. And lots of things are affected by the coming of school.

For example, one of my friends suddenly, without notice, moved to Chicago last week. Her husband had been commuting there and although being previously uncommitted to moving, at the last minute, they decided to make their move now instead of yanking them out in the middle of the school year.

Another of my friends was contemplating breaking up with her live-in boyfriend and finally made her move before school started. She left now so her child wouldn't have to switch schools later on.

I sent my own little first grader off to school this morning. First grade has been much harder to accept than kindergarten, both for me and Nicolas. I know he has to go but there is so much more to be anxious about in first grade. Kindergartners are kept apart from the rest of the school in their own little bubble. Bathrooms, drop-off, and playground are separate for kindergartners. My tiny little boy, innocently asked if he had to have recess with bigger kids and it threw me into a tailspin. If he's worried about getting bullied, I'm worried too. But I'm also worried that he'll get lost on the playground, that he won't be able to find the bathroom, that he won't eat his lunch (I couldn't get him to eat breakfast) and that he wouldn't be able to find his classroom. I'm also worried that the mean kid in our ward that's in his class will make fun of him.
And here is my confession: I actually trekked back over to the school at around 10:30 this morning just to make sure that he made it to his classroom ok . . . and without a breakdown of tears. When I peeked into the window, I saw him tearing into a granola bar and leaning waaaay back in his chair. Par. We're on par for now.

It doesn't help things that he had been dreading this day for months. I dragged him out of bed this morning with him groaning, "nooo, I don't want to go to school." Later he told me, "mom, I am just really bummed about school." Ok. Well. I loved school in elementary school. But it comes back to CHANGE. This is my child that doesn't do good with CHANGE and uncertainty. I am hoping once he develops a comfort zone, he won't be hating it so bad.

So, as I was walking away from the school for the second time this morning, I decided to be grateful that we live where my kids have a safe, nice school and to just accept CHANGE for what it is--something I can't control.

Please Tell Me . . . .

Please tell me you let your baby eat meat like this . . . .


Please tell me your family pictures turn out like this . . .


Please tell me your kids' rooms look like this . . .

Please tell me you have plenty of this . . .

Please tell me you randomly find your butter like this . . .

Please tell me your baby's face looks like this . . .

Because if you do, I might feel better about myself.