For the last few weeks I have been trying to figure out if I am the only Kindergarten mom on the planet who wasn't chasing the bus down the street on that first day of school. There were no tears in this family. Bernie won that bet with his co-worker. They didn't even look back as they climbed those steps as big as them and disappeared behind the tinted bus windows. I gave an aimless wave and started the next part of my day. Am I lacking some sentimental piece of my heart? Is it because the last 5.5 years were a tad bit intense? Was I just so excited to start tackling the collected dust and grime that has accumulated since the death of naps? Who knows. I do know they were ready. We spent those last weeks of summer talking up the idea of Kindergarten, of meeting new friends, and having our own individual teachers (thank the good Lord!). We spent an entire morning practicing getting on a pretend bus, asking Big Bunny if they could sit next to him, reminding Little Baby to watch for her stop and to remember her backpack. And so they transitioned beautifully. The first few days, I am told, they got off the bus holding hands and walked that way until they split at their classroom doors. I would have won that bet. I wish I had a picture but it is sort of fitting that I don't. This is their own little world. They are doing it all on their own and I only get to hear what they decide to share. These children who had not stepped off our curb without their little hands in mine stepped onto that big bus together and then returned 8 hours later with the biggest smiles we have seen. They were ready and they are loving it.
I feel so blessed that Mya is there, too. With them in that big school of new people and ideas. That wasn't a sure bet when we moved, that she would be able to attend her home school. It shouldn't be that way, that siblings and neighbors with different needs aren't always accommodated at the same place, but we live in a world of limited resources and old buildings with crazy floor plans and with varying conceptions of inclusion. But she is there and they are waving in the hall and passing on the playground. Clayton shares gym time with Mya's class. They have never been able to experience school together and I am so glad that this is where we have landed. She is thriving and she is loved and I could not have asked for a better outcome. We know it may not always be easy for them but we aren't there yet. They are having conversations about wheelchairs and different buses with 5 and 6-year-olds who have never had to understand. I asked Clayton how he answers questions about her not walking and talking. 'She was just born that way', he shrugs. No biggie, I guess. Keep it up, my Kindergarten crew. We are so proud of you.
