I think we all know that mornings are not my best time. Left to my own devices, I’d sleep until nine or ten, and then not go to bed until after midnight. But I have kids, and school in the mornings, and thus, I adapt. Sadly, my children are just like me. Mornings are rarely fun, and sometimes, they’re just miserable.
Today was one such morning.
Sam started crying before he opened his eyes about having to go to school. Which just fed into all of my anxieties around sending him to school – is it really the best thing to do, should I keep him back, should I push him ahead, should I just give in and homeschool him instead? I calmed him down, left him with a show in my room and then went to fall apart all over Marc. I wasn’t fully awake, and already thrown into this existential crisis over what kind of life do I want this child to have and why was he so miserable and how can (or should I) fix it.
I powered thru, got him to school, then rushed home to get Julie up and dressed. Today was the appreciation tea for the parent volunteers, and Jessie was reading her poem so I HAD to go. But Julie didn’t wake up any more pleasantly than her brother did, and it was a complete battle of wills to get her dressed and out the door. Never a good feeling than when you have to hold down your child and force clothes on her, and given that I already felt like I was a complete failure as a mother because of Sam, I was fighting tears thru the whole thing.
Maybe I’m just hormonal. I can’t possibly be as bad at this as it seems this morning. After all, Jessie woke up happily enough. Got her little self dressed with a minimum of stress, ate breakfast and was sunshiney delightful. And Sam did, in the end, go to school. Dressed well, ate some breakfast. Julie is happy NOW, although still wearing her pajama top and mismatched pants.
I just called and made an appointment to discuss Sam with his teacher. Bottom line, I want him in first grade. I don’t think he’ll do any better staying back, the benefits would be washed out by the disadvantages. He’ll hate it, I’m sure, but he’ll hate repeating kindergarten too. I go back and forth with a dizzying regularity on this issue, and it’s reaching the point where I need to put it to rest. My desired outcome would be to push him ahead, put him with the same teacher Jessie had, give him some additional support at home and at school. Worst case scenario, if first grade is an utter disaster, maybe we can just drop him back to kindergarten. But I think he’ll do better if we don’t hold him back. I feel like either we pull him out of school entirely or we let him advance with the rest of his peer group.
I’m sure that I’ll change my mind again, but that’s where I’m leaning towards right now.
I hate this.