So, with back to school photos and updates flooding social media in the past couple of weeks, I now have my story to share. My son, who is 3, started school. I was hesitant to start him (my daughter stayed home until she was 4), but, being the good parent that recognizes different children have different needs, and, finding a great school right here in our neighborhood that was a great fit for him, I jumped on board with the idea. Of course, being the good little brother that he is, aka, desperate to do anything that his big sister does, including going to school, he was very excited. I was very nervous. He is what some would call a mama's boy. He and I are very close and especially the last year, with my daughter in school, we had lots of bonding time. Would he cry? Would he scream? This is a boy that if he looks in the kitchen and I am not there will starting screaming 'mommy, where are you' at the top of his lungs, fearful that I have left him, when in reality I simply went to the bathroom. The teacher in me knew he would be ok. He would be cared for, loved, and safe. But the mom in me knew he is my baby. How on earth was I going to be able to leave him? Well, our problem was solved when I found out he would be getting picked up by a bus. Yes, a bus. He was over the moon, all day asking when would his bus come (at that point I was thanking the lucky stars that I told him this the day before he started and I didn't have to pretend to look for a bus for two months). Well, the bus pulled up. He barely looked back as he climbed the steps and as he got buckled into the seat, he excitedly waved to my husband and I. No tears. No screams. Off he went. So, of course off I went - I grabbed my daughter and we hightailed it to the school. We hid behind a pile of garbage (the clean, couch cushion kind, not the smelly cat litter kind) and I watched him get off the bus. Equally as excited as when I saw him get on. I was allowed into the school to peek in on him. He was sitting at a table playing. Not one tear from him. Not one moment of guilt of 'doing the wrong thing' for me. And then it happened. I got teary eyed at how proud I was of him. How, even at 3 yrs old he was able to walk away from me because he trusted me and knew I would be there waiting for him. And, at the end of the day, a happy, little yet confident boy walked off that bus. And the next day, he eagerly got back on. We did it. My husband and I have shown him so much love and trust that he knows we are there cheering for him every step of the way. Even if it is only to nursery school.
Posted by Erica
Photo: A Well Traveled Woman
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