Unthinking, I rolled into Kiddo’s school parking lot loudly playing NOFX’s Drugs Are Good this morning.
It was mass chaos, just like last year, as parents and siblings offer well wishes until the classroom door is closed and the official new school year is started. Kiddo was sharp in her cuffed dark denim jeans and striped polo shirt, sparkling new Chucks and Jansport backpack. We met the new first grade teacher, a lovely lady that I’m sure Kiddo will adore as the year progresses. We made our way through the maze of bodies and kids, all perfect hair and bright colored new clothes, to the playground, where I knelt to hug and kiss on her and saw the first of many fat tears trailing her cheeks.
Several attempts at pep talking and squeezing and tear wiping didn’t seem too promising and I couldn’t bear to leave yet. We wandered over to the daycare classroom where she’s familiar with everyone and she gave me a sad goodbye. I watched her walk away, alone, and plop herself onto a bench, lower her head and cry.
Now I had a c-section so I’m just speculating here, but I think drug-free child birth couldn’t hurt as bad as that scene did. There was no fucking way I was leaving that school.
We sat on the bench together and she asked me to wait until the bell rang. I would have waited until her eighteenth birthday if she’d thought to ask.
The poor thing has never had to express nervousness. She’s been scared and overwhelmed and shit, she was even apprehensive once before. I think she could accurately express all of those feelings but this morning was simply nerves and all she could do to show it was try her mightiest to hold in her tears and tell me she’d miss me.
Kid has no idea.
She lined up on the playground at the appropriate room number when the bell rang, face crinkled and red and making a valiant effort to keep her head up. That may have hurt the most. These weren’t attention seeking tears. She tried to wear her brave face. A teacher’s assistant came between us and clucked, “Oh no, we’re not doing this, say goodbye to mama! You’re gonna be fine!”
Which is all well and true. I’m sure she’s seen this a grillion dozen times. But right then Kiddo was the only first grader in the world and she was upset and I think most other mothers will have my back when I say: that bitch almost got her face broke.
Kiddo blew me a snotty, teary kiss from her side of the chain link fence when I finally headed out. I watched until she disappeared into the classroom, called my co-worker to say I’d be running a little late due to some first grade trauma, and promptly, burst into tears.
-CJ
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