Its official. I have one week until my college courses start. Three weeks until kindergarten starts. Do the math. That means in an unlikely turn of events, I will be bringing my child to college with me. Ah yes. Fun right? Wondering how I will do it? I am wondering myself.
The easier of the two events is prepping for my own return to classes. After dragging my feet on making a schedule, I finally got together the courses I need. Of course I crammed three courses into two days a week, with a once a week night class to make me full time. Back in community college I was able to juggle six courses at once. Now that I have been working fulltime and tending to my own apartment, I’ve been lucky to take four. Every semester I was able to pick my courses on the minute my enrollment date began, buy supplied two months early and label them according to color code and subject interest (yes, I would). Upon entering my senior status, I have now decided to finalize my schedule today and order my textbooks on the school website. I have no idea where my classes are or what I will write in. I have not picked out an outfit nor will I care what bag I bring my things in. I have not set a time to pickup my textbooks and the only thing I will be doing this weekend is sleeping extra and mourning summer. This year is just different. I got that summer time sadness.
Kindergarten is a whole new obstacle. After deciding to keep my daughter back a year ( her birthday was way close to the cut off and WE were so not ready), I am finally seeing her off to public school. Gulp. The big leagues. I’m not sure why its so scary thinking about her moving up. Surely preschool was not quite the experience I had imagined and she is so ready for new challenges. What I do not seem to anticipate is watching her step onto that school bus, not a care in the world or a fear in her eyes. I have two scenarios running in my head. The first is of my belle getting into that bus with hope, determination, excitement and no intentions of crying. The second scenario is more like this: claw marks in my shoulder blades, tears soaked on my collar and a yelling bus driver waiting for her to board. Its the first one that will happen. Because I know my daughter. My rebellious, wildflower, “I can do it by myself” child will have no fears. I will be the one left in tears. Its strange how we feel that way. Wanting so much for them to need us even though we are proud that they don’t.
For now I will enjoy my three weeks of no preschool and lots of mommy-daughter time. When that day comes, I will be proud to capture it and see what I have prepared her to be. And just in case, I will have tissues in my pocket. To see who breaks down first.