The Second Day of Kindergarten

When motherhood arrived, one of the many moments I looked forward to with warm cozy anticipation was the first day of kindergarten experience.

I enjoyed collecting the kindergarten wardrobe and elementary school kid supplies. I remember laying my oldest daughter’s new school clothes across her bed while we carefully chose the first day outfit perfection.

Then the day arrived and I was full of “I love you!” and “Mommy and Daddy are so proud of you” and then, the ever so common bittersweet “How did you grow up so fast?”

I always felt like there was something so wholesome in sending my children out the door to elementary school.

I’ve clocked four first days of Kindergarten over the years.

However, one of those first days felt a bit different.

Although I’m certain I was experiencing the “I love you!” and “we’re so proud of you” and the “How did you grow up so fast?” moments, the first thing I recall about that summer is worry.

When we attended Kindergarten Round Up in the spring, we were in the middle of evaluations and appointments searching for a diagnosis for my boy. There was so much to do ready him for school and that was my focus. My obsessive I can fix this focus. I was worried.

I drove my kids to school that first day and sent his big sister off to her classroom. Then Ethan and I made our way towards kindergarten.

He was in front of me with his bag strapped to his back. He hesitated and stopped in the hallway. I waited. I knew not to push it.

I didn’t want to risk dragging my kid into the classroom kicking and screaming.

Not what I wanted to happen in the presence of the other moms and dads that were already settled in the classroom with their neatly packaged kindergarten prototypes.

So, I tried to promote kindergarten.

“Aww buddy, you’re gonna LOVE IT! You get your own cubby and you’ll make a ton of friends and recess and blah blah blah and blah blah blah… ” But he wasn’t buying my poorly improvised kindergarten propaganda.

I’m exploring my options now.

I’m imagining the drag and I don’t wanna. Soon a staff member comes by and I will always be grateful for how she saved me. With gentle firmness she put her hands on his back and “encouraged” him to enter.

E still wasn’t ready and he was dragging his feet. “No!” “No!” “No!” he said. I wished he could be excited for kindergarten.

I waited in the hallway for a bit then entered the classroom. I joined him at his table and I kneeled by him for awhile. He seemed settled and I continued to encourage him. Soon, parents were leaving so I knew it was time for me to go too. I didn’t even take a picture.

It’s the second day of Kindergarten that seemed more significant. It started like most every other school day we’ve had ever since. Waking the kids, breakfast, clothes, toothbrush, hair, etc. And I was unprepared for the mama heart that was about to snow plow me.

When the kids were ready, I walked them out on the sidewalk down towards the end of the block where the school bus would pick them up.

I waited there with them until they both climbed aboard. They found their seats together and I was waving my goodbye from the sidewalk. The driver closed the doors and I kept waving at the bus as it pulled away.

The months prior to the first day of school was full of appointments, evaluations, and sleepless nights all leading to the official Autism Spectrum Disorder diagnosis.

Although he was previously identified as developmentally delayed and speech and language delayed, we were unprepared for this diagnosis. It was explained that he was considered high functioning but we remained concerned. The paper reports were delivered the first part of June.

Then, further evaluations for the consideration of additional interventions.

E turned 6 years old the end of June, then in August, we realized he had stopped using the toilet. He had been out of diapers for a little over a year.

Unsuccessfully, we tried to reverse this regression before the first day of kindergarten.

In the middle of all of this in July, Ethan’s sweet baby sister was born. Our fourth baby was such a delight and filled us all with joy.

It goes without saying that a new baby makes for a tired mommy. More sleepless nights. It was a busy summer for me emotionally.

So, on the second day when I stood on that sidewalk watching the backside of the yellow bus pull away, it unexpectedly found me. The uncertainty and worry and fear and anxiety was washing over me like an ocean wave violently returning to it’s beach. He couldn’t go. He wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready.

I was convinced the staff at school just didn’t get him yet. I had so many concerns and among them was the fear he would inappropriately soil himself on the bus.

Or in the classroom. Maybe at recess. In the hallway. In the lunchroom.

I imagined how repulsed the other kids might be and I was so fearful he would be teased, laughed at, mocked, bullied.

For so long, I had been hovering like a hawk circling its prey. I had experienced his every minute and now, so many minutes would go unaccounted for.

I wouldn’t know when he needed help.

I knew questioning him about his day would prove to be useless. I was feeling displaced. How could I just step aside and let other people manage him?

It felt so abrupt shipping him away on the school bus. None of this occurred to me before this moment. This all day transfer of control was drowning me.

I wanted to scream and yell and run after the bus. Waving my arms and making it stop. Pull my boy off and return him to the safety of my nest.

I imagined scolding the driver for taking him.

But, I didn’t.

I just stood there and stared for half a minute. Swallowed hard and tried to stuff the panic. And then I turned and let the sidewalk lead me back to the house. Returning to my two youngest sleeping children and the mindless rituals of the day.

The distracting worry was an unwelcome villainous thief that summer. I let it claim the happy from our first day of kindergarten and it wasn’t necessary.

The incessant worry didn’t need to possess every ounce of me and steal the small precious moments in our lives. Worry, fear, anxiety, control is the offspring of insecurity.

Joy CAN coexist in everyday moments when it seems crowded with worry and worry’s friends. I was too distracted to find the joy in those moments.

Kids grow up too fast to let memories slip through your fingers! Don’t let it steal your joy! Find it… it’s there somewhere!

I guess at times, I believed the diagnosis was bigger than I was. Turns out sometimes I’m bigger. And it still rears its ugly head at times when I’m feeling vulnerable.

Although we still face challenges and will for quite sometime, my boy has grown into a fine young man meeting milestones and making strides along the way. He will finish his last year of traditional high school this year and then start an 18-21 program for special needs students.

I will do everything I can to not let his diagnosis define his future, my boy is the one that will get to choose; he will define his future!!

There is life to come!

Written by, Nikole Benedict

Note from the author:

Hello! My name is Nikole and I’m the proud mama of four kids. My second oldest child was identified as speech, language, and developmentally delayed by our school district shortly when he was two years old and then diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder (PDDNOS) at the age of five. My page is called Preparing to Launch and it is a collection of thoughts, reflections & random momisms manifesting from 22 years of motherhood!

My boy is socially graduating from traditional high school in May of this school year. And then he’ll enter an 18-21 program. For whatever reason, I interpret this as a milestone; a life marker that gives reason to revisit the last 18 years. My memories, perspectives, emotions, investment and everything in between has resurfaced and I feel compelled to document our journey. So much is dancing in my head… some memories have made it fully composed to paper, some memories are only half written, and the rest remain dancing in a half-composed state inside my head and heart, waiting their turn for documentation.

Over the years, I have had the opportunity to share some of my son’s story, my family’s story. As a result of the positive feedback and encouragement from my small audience, I have been convinced my experiences and words are relevant and maybe even useful to other families and Moms that might share a similar experience. So, it is for the benefit of my son, my family and for anyone that may gain encouragement from my writings, that I have decided to share! Blessings!

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