Back to School
Our boy started kindergarten this week, the same week my beloved resigned from the job he'd held for 16 years to pursue a new one. Plenty of change is afoot here, and it's had me thinking about choices and progress and supporting each other through unknown territory.
Waiting on the playground with our boy for the morning's first bell has been a time of reflection for me—remembering my childhood on a similar playground, recalling the two years I spent at home alone with our first-born before his sister came along, wondering whether working is the right thing for all of us while the kids are still relatively young. Running through the pea gravel to scale the jungle gym would have probably been a better, more sanity-producing use of my time. Instead, I stood with the other kindergarten moms I knew and made small talk that failed to chase away all that was on my mind.
I wonder how much longer our boy will want me to escort him to the wall where the kindergarteners line up before class starts, how many more days or weeks will pass before he just climbs out of the car in the morning, waves goodbye, and dashes off to play without a worry.
I wonder whether we'd be happier, all of us, if I were pushing the kids in the stroller to drop him off, taking in the morning air and chatting about what we saw along the way, instead of rushing out the door for two drop-offs, one at school and one at day care, so that I can rush to work, rush through my to-do list there, and rush back for an on-time pick-up.
I wonder how I can make changes to my work schedule so that we can all have what we seem to enjoy—for me, the ability to participate in something productive and stimulating outside our home while still having time for family and friends; for our girl, some time to socialize with playmates; for our boy, ample time to play alone at home; for all of us, a rhythm that is mutually satisfying.
But when I stop wondering, I see that even though it's tough sometimes, the kids are happy, they're learning and growing, and they're still the same kids they were before my transition to work in the spring. I see that our boy loves kindergarten far more than he did day care. And I see that one of my most important roles as mother is setting the tone in our home. It's all too true that if the matriarch isn't content with her situation, ain't nobody content with theirs.
Waiting on the playground with our boy for the morning's first bell has been a time of reflection for me—remembering my childhood on a similar playground, recalling the two years I spent at home alone with our first-born before his sister came along, wondering whether working is the right thing for all of us while the kids are still relatively young. Running through the pea gravel to scale the jungle gym would have probably been a better, more sanity-producing use of my time. Instead, I stood with the other kindergarten moms I knew and made small talk that failed to chase away all that was on my mind.
I wonder how much longer our boy will want me to escort him to the wall where the kindergarteners line up before class starts, how many more days or weeks will pass before he just climbs out of the car in the morning, waves goodbye, and dashes off to play without a worry.
I wonder whether we'd be happier, all of us, if I were pushing the kids in the stroller to drop him off, taking in the morning air and chatting about what we saw along the way, instead of rushing out the door for two drop-offs, one at school and one at day care, so that I can rush to work, rush through my to-do list there, and rush back for an on-time pick-up.
I wonder how I can make changes to my work schedule so that we can all have what we seem to enjoy—for me, the ability to participate in something productive and stimulating outside our home while still having time for family and friends; for our girl, some time to socialize with playmates; for our boy, ample time to play alone at home; for all of us, a rhythm that is mutually satisfying.
But when I stop wondering, I see that even though it's tough sometimes, the kids are happy, they're learning and growing, and they're still the same kids they were before my transition to work in the spring. I see that our boy loves kindergarten far more than he did day care. And I see that one of my most important roles as mother is setting the tone in our home. It's all too true that if the matriarch isn't content with her situation, ain't nobody content with theirs.
posted by Lisa Strandberg at 10:23 AM
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