Starting School: The Bad Mom Way

Since Sam was in utero, I have dreamed about him starting school. I've drooled over the aisles of school supplies each summer, just waiting for the day when we'd pick our pencil case, our backpack... you get the idea.

Starting last spring, we began receiving little glimpses of elementary school life. We went to kindergarten enrollment. (Previously called screening, which they still do but don't want to call it that or be too critical because that wouldn't be PC.) One thinks, as an educated and modern mama, that the point of such a process would be information. I have learned, however, that parents are on a strictly need-to-know basis. We provide all sorts of personal information about our kid and ourselves, but when it comes to dates or procedures or even expectations we can have for our first school days-- don't need to know.

So, welcome to August, where I ("new parent") am bombarded with required meetings and events-- all before Labor Day. Some with kids, some without kids. Some informative, some social. Some required, all required-- who knows? Therefore, here I am, trying to navigate the complex world of Elementary School.

Top off the total sense of confusion with something I should have expected, but in fact did not: social hierarchy. Why is it I feel like I have returned to junior high? It seems so obvious who the cool parents are and the fun parents and the popular parents... throw in the conservatives vs liberals, rich vs poor, and worst of all the concerned and the nonchalant. Who do you want to be? What do you want the other parents to think about you? The world and identity I've worked hard to create, to earn, to be in other spheres of my life is irrelevant here. I'm an unknown, and whether or not that will be good enough for everyone else is unknown too.

Of course, all of this heavy pressure comes from the inner desire to create the perfect school experience for your child-- sign up for the right volunteer opportunities, the right after-school clubs, the perfect Cyclone sweatshirt. As if any of that will actually impact their experience at all. The truth is, Sam's school years are his, not mine, and it's his role to create. He was totally cool with the whole process. In the car on the way to school, he said, "I want to try everything. Everything you can do, I want to do." And he shook hands with other kids and introduced himself, just like he always does. He'll be exactly who God made him to be. And he's so much stronger and bolder and more secure than I think that he is, and I know he will be just fine.

Now whether I'll make it or not remains to be seen...