Last week was a time of growth for our family. We hit small but sweet milestones with every passing month, like improving a swim stroke or when all the kids decide the love brussels sprouts or when I took all four littles somewhere out of the house by myself for the first time. But last week, we hit a big one. It was the kind that changes everything. Two of my babies woke up one day and were school kids. All day long. And loved it.
I have been so excited for this time, because I knew that with it would come an abundance of free time for me to spend with my other two children, to give them the individualized attention that the twins got when they were tiny. Of course, I knew that it would mark huge growth in my older kids, and they would flourish in this new and enriching environment. I was also a little heartbroken that this is the end of… something. They are still in the midst of their childhoods, I know, but there is something that’s over and I can’t help but feel a few pangs of loss with that. It has me wishing that we would have done a few more Pinterest activities during the summer days or that I should have shown more patience that one all those afternoons before naptime or maybe that I shouldn’t have put them down for a nap at all, but rather, should have cuddled them in my arms for those two hours, because life is short and childhood is shorter and my babies’ childhoods sure feel the shortest yet. But I know that this is a normal feeling, and it’s just something that we all go through and forgive ourselves for once we realize that we are indeed human and not a Martha Stewart-Mary Poppins-Cinderella-Superwoman hybrid (or something like that).
And was I a nervous wreck, you ask? Yes, that too. For Ari, but not for Gabe. Not for Gabe in the least. He was as ready as he could be. He taught himself to read and is currently flipping through The Chronicles of Narnia right now, and not an abridged version either. It’s sixth grade reading material, and he loves it. He also is pretty good at addition and subtraction, which is another good thing. Over the past week in school, Gabe has learned some important lessons about talking out of turn, he has made everyone in the class his friend but has a couple bosom buddies already, and he has been breezing through his academics (with the exception of coloring, which takes him a while… go figure).
My worries for Ariana were a different story, which should go without saying. There’s no question that she’s not academically at her age level, but the important thing about kindergarten for her in my eyes is not necessarily the academics, although I do hope that she’ll master her colors and learn to identify the letters in her name by the end of the year. I’m realistic about her potential, and I know that while she is super bright, she isn’t likely to grow up to be a surgeon or a Congresswoman. What’s important for me to see is for Ari to grow to be a part of society in some way, shape, or form that makes her happy and feel like she has a life with purpose. Kindergarten would make her happy. Regular kindergarten (not a self-contained special ed. classroom) with kids like her brother and sister and family friends who use spoken language, who move purposefully, and who are socially interactive. Ari needs these examples more than she needs someone to teach her how to handwrite her numbers, believe me. It was a struggle getting Ari fully mainstreamed in a classic kindergarten classroom with a one-on-one aide by her side at all times. She still receives an hour of resource per day for academic support and all three therapies an hour a week during school. We’re only a week into school, but Ari has already started to take a small and emerging interest in her homework. There are kids who enjoy playing with her at recess and who want to push her wheelchair down the hall, and she even has made a couple good friends (one boy and one girl) who share giggles with her and ask to sit next to her in circle time and always say “bye Ari!” at the end of the day. Ari has been great about using the toilet while at school, and the past two lunch periods, she even finished her whole lunch in the twenty minute window in which they have to eat it (at 10:45 am no less!). Her teacher describes her as “always happy” and says that she’s “happy to have Ari in [her] class”. Her aide says that “Ari is a pleasure to work with". Ari leaves for school with (legs kicking) excitement and nods her head with such fervor, when asked if she likes school, that she looks like she’s taking a bow. I would say that, so far, Ari has managed to calm most of my initial worries and anxieties about Kindergarten.
Right now, I am just excited for what the year has in store for them, while I still miss them like crazy while they are away all day. How could I not – just take a look at those lovable faces.
