We got the letter last week, Little Man was accepted in to the pre-school down the street. He starts tomorrow.
I’m a wreck. I’m a wreck. Know what I am? A wreck. My little boy, my son who I’d cradle when he couldn’t even hold his head up, is going to school. When we had trouble nursing in that first week and I’d let him suck on my finger to calm him down for a few seconds and he’d look up all frightened and confused not 20 inches long and he’s going to put on a backpack tomorrow and walk down the hall away from me.
I’m bouncing off the walls. I’m freaking out here. This little person who I’ve had the inestimable privilege to watch and nurture from a pooping lump of adorable into this ambulatory, reasoning, sensitive little boy who can do character voices and quote his favorite books in their entirety, this little person is on the cusp of a massive, massive developmental change. And I am lucky enough to a part of it.
He’s going to be alone! We never did daycare, and made the decision at the beginning that Mama would stay home and we’d eat beans and rice and never buy things, so he’s never had to be in a strange room with strange adults and kids. What if he doesn’t understand? What if some kid bullies him? What if he feels abandoned by us and some sacred toddler trust is betrayed and he never loves us the same way again? It’s too soon. It’s too soon. We should wait to put him in school until he’s like, 16.
I can’t believe we’ve waited this long to do this. Everyone in our circle of friends and family have had their kids in daycare. I cannot wait to see what he’ll pick up. He’s at the point verbally and cognitively where he’s forming opinions and observations and putting things together like Sherlock with superglue. I think that this will be, developmentally, like sending a shuttle to the moon. There will be some up front challenges, but the benefits will be felt for a long time afterwards. I can’t wait to listen to him tell me about his day, about the other kids in his class.
He’ll be around other kids, he’ll start getting a group of friends. This is the beginning of our ever increasing loss of influence over him.
He’ll start making friends. This is the beginning of him growing into the man he’ll be come.
This is the beginning of him growing into a man. I’ll never hold my son again.
I’ll never hold my son again. My shoulders are relaxing thinking about it.
When we send him out with his grandparents I start missing him 10 minutes in. I don’t know what I’ll do with myself while he’s at school.
I don’t know what I’ll do with myself while he’s at school. I start getting confused and lost when I have 10 minutes to myself. I’m going to get 3 hours a day, 3 days a week now. I could…I could get bored again.
He’s going to be at school 3 days a week. How the butthole am I going to pay for this? Is there a market for the opinions of a straight white man in his indeterminate 30’s? There’s gotta be someone interested in my unique perspective on current events. Crap. Will the Baby-Mama have to go back to work?
The Baby-Mama could go back to work if she wanted. Nothing crazy, just to get out in the world again. Has it really only been 3 years?
Has it really been 3 years? I can’t believe this is happening now.
I can’t believe this is happening now.