Today was the day we started school.
Okay. The kids started school.
We arrived at school and tentatively, nervously made our way to the office. MY husband was walking along, not a care in the world as the girls and I fiddled our hair, and rearranged our backpacks (ok, purse for me). He looked at me and said in that loving, condescending voice “what, are you nervous”
I don’t think he ever knew, in the 13 yrs we have been together, how nervous I get around new people.
I wanted to run away and throw up.
And then I looked at the kids. My beautiful 8yr old who really had the most to lose in this move was white. Or maybe green. I knew exactly how she felt.
I took a deep breath and grabbed her hand and smiled my best fake everything-will-be-fine smile and charged forward.
We dropped the little one first. There was only 1 other little girl in class and thankfully the teacher put our lovely into this girls care with a quick “go show Izzy around” We were good. She was good. That was easy
Up to grade 4.
Now this will be trickier. As I have mentioned before, our Amy had fabulous friends. She was good in our “old life”. She was successful at school, she was part of great teams and was happy. She had the most to lose, and I am the most worried about her.
As we approached her classroom the grip on my hand got tighter and her face got paler. There were already a bundle of kids in the class, all greeting each other and catching up.
I kept thinking this is what Amy would be doing at her old school. She would be gabbing with friends and giving hugs. Instead she was hiding behind her parents, in a room with strangers.
My eyes watered and the guilt seeped into me. I was drowning in it. All I wanted to do was sweep her out of there and make everything like it was for her. I think I made a mistake.
Eventually we left her to the wolves… I mean other students.
It didn’t feel good.
What if this move has screwed things for her? What if, by making this change, we have set her on a bad path. What if… what if…
I didn’t feel good at all.