School Daze

Oops, sorry, I've been MIA again. With Tony's crazy, minimum 16 hour day work schedule, I can barely look after myself, let alone Ciaran lately. But, I'll skip the pity party and (finally) get to the post I've been working on for the last week and a half!

Due to the fact that I'm always way behind in my posts, I thought about skipping Ciaran's first day of school and moving on to something more timely, but it was a pretty major milestone, so I had to fit it in. Better late than never, as they say. Sigh. Why is that becoming the motto of my life?

Anyway, I've been mentally preparing him for the big day for about a year now. I didn't want it to be a total shock like when he first started going to daycare. But it was difficult explaining things to him then. He understands much better now. Truth be told, his vocabulary rivals mine, with words like quite and fabulous, using them in sentences like "Mommy, these new shoes you bought me are quite fabulous." And "I quite like this CD, Mommy. I'd certainly like to find a comparable one." On second thought, I'd have to say his vocabulary is way more sophisticated than mine, although it does border on the grandmotherly side. 

So, to get him in the whole school mind-set,  I bought him a book about an annoying little bastard Franklin the turtle, and his wussy whining fear of getting on the school bus for the first time. We talked about what would happen when Ciaran started school, but he'd brush me off and say he wasn't going to school until he got bigger and I'd tell him that day was coming soon and then he'd either try to change the subject, or get all quiet and sad, making me feel more of that never-ending guilt.

But on his last day of daycare, I had to put it out there again. Explain that the time had finally come for him to start school. All the while keeping a happy (more like anxious-sounding) tone of voice. Telling him how exciting and fun it would be at his new school. About how many new friends and nice teachers he'd meet. He wasn't jumping for joy, but he seemed to accept the fact that he couldn't avoid going.

I, on the other hand, did not sleep a wink the night before. I was more nervous about his first day of school than I was on my own first day, so many years ago. I tossed and turned, trying to remember if I'd put a juice pack in his lunch bag. Should I pack an extra set of clothes? Were his indoor shoes in his backpack?

When my alarm went off the next morning, I dragged my butt out of bed and tried to pull myself together. As I got him ready, I tried to keep that happy-go-lucky tone in my voice although I felt like total crap. This was supposed to be an emotional, exciting day for me, but all I wanted to do was throw up and crawl back into bed.

At the school, it was complete chaos as we were herded to one classroom, told to go somewhere else and then back to the original class. The whole time, the principal and the JK teacher explained procedures to us as I looked back at them blankly, my head spinning. I must have looked like some cracked-out mom. Not a good first impression for my son's first day of school.

But, although I didn't take nearly enough pictures and was too tired to shed more than a couple of tears, in the end, it all worked out. He's a happy camper and actually enjoys getting up and going to school. And his vocabulary? Well, let's just say in the zombified state I've been in lately, it sure as hell kicks my ass!

Cuddling with Ducky before heading off to school

No ducks in the classroom!