Little Z-Man, you are starting school this week.
It’s just a lil DayCare/Pre-K program we found for you that you’ll attend three days a week for a few hours each day, but it’s a big, big deal.
This is the beginning of your education, which I promise you is one of the most important and precious things you’ll ever be given (in addition to wisdom and street smarts and love and respect and kindness and freedom and strength and so many other things).
From this moment on, you’ll spend the better part of two decades learning things that won’t make sense now but you’ll appreciate in the future (like doing math without a calculator) and things you’ll wish you would have learned (like balancing a checkbook or killing a spider in the best way for your Momma).
From this week on, you’ll make friends you think you’ll keep forever. Most of them will fade away. The ones you work hard at and the ones you fit best wish will remain for years and years and years. They’ll know your every dirty secret (like the time you peed through your Pull-Ups on the first day of school, which I’m just calling now as happening on Wednesday). They’ll probably know more about your sister than your parents will, too, so keep them close and if they get any good dirt, beat up some boys and tell your Momma.
Some of your friendships you’ll lose. But the memories of those friends — the sleepovers, the laughs, the mistakes and the note-passing — these things you will carry with you forever. I still think about some of those moments from 20 years ago when a name pops up on FaceBook now and then. They made me who I am today — their families welcomed me in to their homes and fed me dinners and took me on vacations.
So all I can hope is that you will be brave and make friends. Build block towers together and chase each other outside at recess. I can’t wait until we all make new friends and I sip coffee with a new friend’s Momma while you play together.
Listen to your teachers. Always. I had some strict teachers and some easy ones; I had some kind ones and some mean ones. But they all taught me not just school lessons but life lessons. I had a second-grade teacher who sent me to the office during a lesson on prejudice and racism and discrimination simply because I had blue eyes. I’ll never forget the fear and confusion and sadness, but to this day, I remember Mrs. N and treat everyone I meet as an equal. My fourth-grade teacher came to Grandma’s funeral and gave me a great big hug that let me know she cared. That meant a lot. My sixth-grade teacher embraced my sarcasm but taught me not to ever cross the line. (I’m still working on this one) My sophomore English teacher told me I was a good writer and introduced me to the school newspaper. I’ve been writing almost every day of my life since then in some way. My freshman year of college, a professor made me feel like I was a number, not a person and I made it my goal never to just be a number in a group again but to always stand out as a good person. I hope you always respect and listen to teachers — they are not just adults at school — they are family, they are friends, they are coaches, they are sweet lil ladies in the fruit section of the supermarket.
I don’t know what education will be like for you. For reasons I will never understand but have to embrace, you were given challenges before you were even born. If I could have, I would have waved my magic Mommy wand and made all of your struggles disappear. But we are given obstacles and challenges for a reason. We must make the most of them and learn from them and grow from them. I hope that education pushes you but doesn’t tear you down; I hope people understand your challenges but never limit your possibility and potential. I will never settle than the absolute best for you and I will never, ever let someone tell us that you can’t do something. All of the above goes for your sister, too. You are both full of potential and I am going to make sure you have the brightest, happiest futures I can offer you.
We may have to take different approaches; we may have to take a detour or re-route our path. There are probably not going to be many shortcuts, but I promise you my patience and my help in any way I can give it.
And may the Lord protect anyone who disagrees with that.
So we start on Wednesday with a new backpack. In it will be a change of clothes and some Pull-Ups since you’re a Big Boy and learning to use the potty and it’s not always perfect. There also will be a communication log one of Mommy’s friends who works in Special Education recommended we start. I began with a letter to your teachers telling them thank you and letting them know all about your family and your favorite things. We’ll get little notes back from them talking about what you’re working on and how we can help and if you’ve had a good day or a bad day. We’re developing an IEP for you (Individualized Education Program, where we outline your potential and let your teachers know that you have a disability but you are not defined by that disability). You may even still receive some of your therapies (probably speech for sure, your toughest area currently).
If you get scared or lost for a moment, remember you love music and start yourself a dance party. I’ll be dancing in spirit right there with you, fingers pointing in the air. Or pick up a book and share a story with someone. Do what makes you happy and what makes you comfortable and the rest will come to you.
I am so blessed to be able to take you to your first day of school. We will make it short and sweet and Addie and I will offer you big hugs and kisses and find you a fun activity to start your day. I’ll squeeze Addie a little tighter and kiss her as I put her in the carseat. And I will try hard not to but very likely will bawl my eyes out for a few moments. I promise they will be happy tears because I’m so proud of you and I’m so proud of this huge, awesome support system you’ve had around you to get you ready for this day.
And I will have an extra cup of coffee and go and enjoy time with your little sister and some of Mommy’s friends and their babies. And just a few hours later, I will pick you up and I bet you anything that you’ll look bigger!
We never take anything for granted in life anymore. You have taught us about the many gifts in life. And this Wednesday, with your little “Zachary” backpack over your tiny shoulders, heading inside a building to meet new friends and learn lots of new things, you will give us another gift.
“Dearest, when you go away
My heart will go, too,
Will be with you all the day,
All the night with you.
Where you are through lonely years,
There my heart will be.
I will guide you past all fears
And bring you back to me.”
(Edna St Vincent Millay, “Song”)