It's been about a month since I started feeling a little pit in my stomach. You know, like when something is hanging on you and you don't quite know what it is.
It's been a couple weeks now since I figured out what it was. And each day that has passed since then I have known that soon I would have to write about it to let it out in an attempt to feel a bit of freedom from the feeling. I knew I would have to let my thoughts spill onto this page as a way of understanding them further and keep them from building too big inside my head.
McKay is in first grade.
This is not a horrible thing.
It's just, well, I guess I thought that since the first couple months of school were fairly easy to get used to and the big adjustment to spending six and a half hours at school really didn't seem all that much like an adjustment, we were in the clear.
We're not. The adjustment was late. It snuck up on us and hit sometime in October.
And we're still going through it.
Six and a half hours at school. McKay reminds me of this often. He has a sense of pride and of dread at the fact that he is at school for six and a half hours a day. People told me he would be really tired at first. He wasn't. I kept waiting for him to fall asleep in the car, or crash on the couch, yawn a bunch or at the very least fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
Nope. Didn't happen. None of it.
But after we started seeing him break down about little things time and time again I wondered if it was all catching up to him. He is not generally a crier. Or wasn't, I should say. Now it seems like he falls apart every time he is disappointed or told no. Several times Brian and I have looked at each other thinking, "Where did this come from? Who is this?"
I have now come to the conclusion that this is his form of adjusting to first grade. This is what he's going through and how it's presenting itself. We try so hard to be patient, but it's hard to do it every time. He is going through something that none of us really understand, but we're just trying our best to get through it. He's not horrible. He's such a good boy. He's just not himself lately. Crying and throwing little fits about little things is not him. We really don't know how to handle this sudden change in our boy. I feel sad for him because I know it must be hard to be getting used to this new life he has now.
With the extra worrying I've been doing about him and what he's going through, it's come to me that I am mourning a little bit. Mourning the loss of my little boy. He's getting so big. He's still sweet and good and innocent, but he is seven. And seven is not the same as three or even five. Seven is so far from five I cannot believe it sometimes. Seven worries sometimes about what other people might think of him. Seven spends all day with people I don't know and kids I don't get to monitor. Seven is independent. Seven gets embarrassed more. Seven is enthusiastic and has homework and due dates. Seven learns things that I didn't teach him. Seven is starting to understand social cues and takes note of social situations. Seven is older.
I'm mourning the loss of having my kids home with me most of the time and having the freedom to explore and learn here at home, plus to go wherever we wanted during the day. Now we have drop off times and pick up times to dictate our schedule. I kind of hate that sometimes.
I'm mourning the loss of his free time. Six and a half hours a day. That means he gets home at quarter to four and that is an hour and a half until dinner time. That is him missing going to library story time with us (not that we do that, but if we wanted to:) or going to Grammy's or playing with cousins or going to the park during the day. I almost feel like we shouldn't do anything too big or too fun while he is at school because I feel sad that he'll miss it. Sometimes I marvel that he doesn't say more about the dramatic loss of
fun time in his life. He's mentioned it here and there, but thankfully he is still mostly excited about being at school. I'm glad that is still mostly fun for him.
So. . . I have no major conclusion to these rambling thoughts. Only that I think we'll get through it.
An adjustment never lasts forever.