maybe I need more practice

Jaron has been ready to go to big school for a long time now. Last year, when we took Madison to first grade, he cried the entire 30 miles to preschool because he wanted to stay there with her. He said he was big. He tried to convince me that maybe he was 5 already and maybe he had already had his Spiderman birthday cake. Since I am the cake maker, I was confident that at that time, he had not yet enjoyed his Spiderman birthday cake. He had not blown out the 5 candles that would boost him to that long awaited age in which he could ride the awesome yellow bus to school. Well...as August rolled around this year...there was no denying the fact that he had.

I asked him last night if he was ready to finally go to big school and anxiously awaited the excitement that would follow when he realized it was time at last! He looked away from me and said, "Maybe I need more practice." He only learned to write his name this summer. He wanted to practice some more. This morning when I got him up he wanted to practice his name again. I never considered he would worry about his school work. All this time I have been nervous that he will be bashful. This is the boy who told me he is "shy of lots of people." I just want him to like school and like his teacher and like his new little friends. I want him to be able to get his chocolate milk open and cut up his french toast and not worry about the crowd around him.

I think I have done a great job keeping my poker face on as this monumental day has been approaching us. I have had big smiles for him. But when the big, brick building grew larger as we approached I felt my heart start to flutter. Not with excitement like when I was a student, but with anxiety and hope and dreams and wishes for him. This is my only son. If the world made any sense at all he would be a toddler dumping an entire box of Cheerios in the kitchen floor before throwing them in the air with glee. "Are you going to come in my classroom with me?" he asked with the big, brown eyes. Of course I was. Of course I was going to help him find his desk and find his breakfast and find his teacher and open his milk carton.

Kevin and I were kind of hovering in the doorway to make sure he went where he was supposed to. After he finished eating breakfast there was a moment of hesitation at the doorway as he decided which way to go. His little friend pulled him by the hand to lead him down the stairs to the gym where the students were gathering for an assembly, and he decided to follow her instead of coming back to his dad and I like I could tell he was considering. I felt my eyes start to sting as I walked down the long hall and out the door much more quickly than I had come in. Maybe I need more practice, too.