Another summer has come and gone and like most parents, I have been full of mixed feelings about summer ending and the kids returning to school. Personally, after the Fourth of July, I am all about fall. But I am not always as ready for the kids to go back to school as I am for spooky season. There’s so much planning that goes into preparing for back-to-school and it can be hard to transition back to the stress of school lists and stringent routines after spending a good 6 weeks not worrying about much. This year was a little bit of extra stress with Bowen starting Kindergarten.
We had been working with an in-home Occupational Therapist to help Bowen get ready for Kindergarten, which began in the spring and continued through the summer. We focused mostly on functional skills such as number and letter recognition and lots of fine motor work. I’d also started Bowen in therapy with a psychologist to work through some emotional regulation aspects that he seemed to be struggling with. Things like confidence, identifying his feelings and problem-solving were big themes we have been trying to work through. I feel like it helped but we still have some work to do.
Despite being very busy this summer, I’ll give myself a pat on the back for taking it easy and trying my best to enjoy the boys. We had lots of days at various parks, took the boys to the Cheyanne Mountain Zoo and spent a week in Washington with family. Baseball was fun and successful and I can honestly say it was a great summer. As July came to and end and August began I found my stomach in knots over Bowen’s big transition. We’d completed his 504 plan at the end of the previous school year but awaiting teacher assignments was painstaking as I needed to discuss Bowen with them immediately.
My time finally came a few days before school began when I was able to sit down with his teacher and explain a little bit of the “why” behind some of Bowen’s needs, while also giving some background on his medical history. All my anxiety about who his teacher would be, seeing his classroom, getting a schedule set with the nurse, was finally completed.
He was such a trooper on his big send off. Bowen was full of smiles and excitement as he trucked into the classroom with a backpack as big as he is. With brains in his head and feet in his shoes, I couldn’t wait to hear about his daily adventures. It struck me a little later that I was wondering if I had missed something very important… my tears. So many moms (and a few dads) had tears in their eyes as the said goodbye to their eldest, middle and youngest children. For me, I had smiles. I had hugs for those parents I knew well enough to offer comfort to. I had social anxiety about the crowd of people and was itching for those kiddos to enter the school so I could go home. But I didn’t have tears.
I didn’t have tears the next day, or the day after. I didn’t have tears the following week when it was a full 5-day week for him. And I still didn’t have tears as the “honeymoon” phase ended and Bowen began having his own anxiety and tears about going to school. The subsequent week was tough. I had to peel my baby off of me each day and quickly hand him to the school staff as he cried. But I still didn’t cry. I walked away with my head held high as I told myself he was safe and I love him. Bowen may not fully understand this yet, but I know that unfortunately, this will not be his hardest challenge. And knowing this, I can distance myself a little and say that I know he is ok. And I am ok too.
I began reflecting on my “lack” of tears after such hard drop offs and through many of Bowen’s milestones- both positive and negative. Through reflection, I realized I felt “weird” or “abnormal” when everyone else is crying and I am not. I’d mentioned in a previous post before Bowen’s heart surgery (Preparing Your Heart for the Hard Stuff), about how important it is to find your own way of handling tough circumstances so the “little” things don’t seem so big. I’d said “You’re tough, like all mama’s are. But you owe your mental health the grace to be in a space you don’t want to be in, even if the situation isn’t life threatening”. Sometimes, we are in a mental state that is just hard to put into words. Often times the space I find myself in often is simply “numb”. I am not sure what I feel in the moment and I don’t always know how to articulate it. My tears aren’t there. I process the good and the bad in a different way than with tears and crying. Especially Bowen. I don’t recall crying in medical appointments, hospital stays, diagnoses; or school starting, playing sports or learning to swim.
Don’t get me wrong though, I occasionally have a breakdown or two, and the scary moments we’ve had in Bowen’s life have led to plenty of tears. I cried as we watched him fight for his breath in ICU and I cried in the chapel at Children’s Hospital while he went through heart surgery.
As I’ve watched both kids grow up, rather than mourning the littles they were, I feel immense pride at who they are becoming. I watch them in wonder as they trot off to be great. I am happy for them. I am happy I am raising them to be secure enough to venture into the unknown without looking back. They know I am right there to catch them. Alas, I will save my tears for another day.
Somewhere In Between 