I wrote this post yesterday morning, after I dropped the boys off for their first day at school…

Today is the first day of school and I’m sitting here in a house of absolute silence. Except for the refrigerator humming, which I’ve never really noticed before, probably due to the constant sounds from Nickelodeon, the Wii and the screams from the most recent Band of Brothers battle.

Now the refrigerator stopped and this is total silence. My ears don’t know what to do with themselves.

Both of my boys are in school. Both of them. Even my baby.

I thought I would be a pile of blubbering mess by now, but I’m not. There was a moment in the car when I turned back and looked at Parker, sitting in his booster seat with his school uniform on for the first time and, had I been alone, I would have bawled right then. But I didn’t want to upset Parker, who was feeling a little nervous on his first day, so I sucked it up.

This is my sixth year of first days of school. Payton started mom’s day out when he was 2.5 years old and today started second grade.

For the first time in six years, I’m not an emotional train wreck.

For the first time ever, Payton started school just like every other kid.

For the first time ever, Parker started big school, and he too started just like every other kid.

For the first time ever, I was able to walk out of the school without fighting back a torrential flood of tears. Not because of sentimentality, but because I didn’t literally drag anyone (read: Payton) into the building, pry my son (read again: Payton) off of my legs, have the teacher physically restrain him and then walk away as I hear him screaming, as if I’m breaking his heart from abandonment, “Mama! Don’t leave me! Come back, Mama! Come back!”

Today is a bigger milestone in my life than even I thought it would be.

Parker was such a big boy on his first day of kindergarten. He put his backpack up, turned in his lunch money, found his seat and started his work. He gave me and his dad hugs and kisses and that was it.

So this is the kindergarten experience most other mothers have. I never knew.

Isn’t it funny that of all the things that got to me, the fact that he is going to be a tray-luncher today instead of lunch-boxer is what bothered me? Just imagining him walking through the cafeteria with a green lunchroom tray in his hands somehow screams NOT YOUR BABY ANYMORE! more than anything else. Odd.

Payton?

Wow. Payton on his first day of second grade.

Wow.

He got dressed for school with no drama; no crying, screaming or kicking. He walked into the school. Walked, not dragged. He went to his classroom with no crying, talked to his teacher, and I was able to wave bye and leave him without someone holding him back.

I’m almost speechless at the transformation from the total hell that was last year and the year before (and before that and before that and before that). I don’t know if there are any words to describe how I feel right now.

It’s like the weight from years of worry is suddenly gone and I could float off into the sky, all the way to the moon if I wanted.

Ok, now I start to cry.

I no longer have to hold my breath, swimming blindly in a stormy sea of confusion, desperately trying to convince everyone (including myself) there is nothing wrong with my son, until I’m sure I’ll drown in the emotional hurricane.

Today, I won’t sit here and worry how Payton is all day long, tense and tight until 3:15. I won’t worry that he’ll disrupt the class, require counselor intervention, or that he’ll try to run away from the school again. I’m not flinching when the phone rings, dreading to see the school’s number on caller ID. I’m not scouring my books, lining up my defense and authoritative evidence, ready to shine the light on the real life with gifted children and open people’s eyes to something other than disorder.

Today, I won’t calm myself in a mug of Irish Creme with a splash of coffee.

Instead, I popped open a bottle of champagne and made mimosas in celebration. After the second mimosa, I went straight for the champagne.

This is a big moment and I deserve it.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, August 12th, 2008 at 2:58 am and is filed under Gifted Children, I'm Deep Like a Marshmallow, School is for dummies, This Mom Gig. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.