My eldest started school last week. He is now a big kindergartener! He was very excited about going to his new school. I was anxious about how well he would do the first couple of weeks. My dear sweet Ian, in the heat of the moment, does not handle change very well. In fact, he needs a little extra help in some of the social and emotional areas of his life. I'd been praying very hard the few weeks before school that he would handle it well enough. I didn't ask for a miracle. Things didn't need to go perfectly. I just wanted him to be able to cope with a brand new school, brand new teachers, brand new classmates, and a brand new schedule. And I knew that was asking a lot!
He awoke a little after 6am the first morning. He was so excited! He was ready to get going. Mommy, however, was neither excited nor ready to get going. Not at 6am! Not when we didn't have to leave until 8:15! The morning was very uneventful. He ate the breakfast of his choice. Willingly put on the clothes of my choice. And happily posed for a few pictures.
The ride to school was very chatty. His excitement was giving me hope that everything was going to be okay. Then we pulled up in the parking lot.
There were kids everywhere! Obviously. It's an elementary school. Ian immediately deflated. He barely spoke a word when walking to find where he would line up. He sat down in line, his eyes wide with uncertainty. He managed a little smile for my camera phone, but I could tell he was afraid. I hugged him, kissed him, gave him a pep talk, and waved goodbye as his class filed into the building. I feared this was not going to be a good day.
A few hours later I returned to pick him up. When he spotted me he ran straight for me with a huge smile and arms wide open ready for a hug. His first words were, "I was really good today!" Thank you, Jesus! He went on to tell me he didn't cry not even once and he never got in trouble. On the way to the car he was telling me all of the places they visited around the school: the library, the cafeteria, the spanish room, etc... My heart was about to explode. I felt like I couldn't have asked for a better day. Then he pulled a picture out of his back pack. I gasped and slapped my hand over my mouth. I was about to receive the over the top icing on the cake that had been what I thought was a good enough day! "Look what I colored, Mom." I replied in a high, squeaky voice, barely audible to the human ear, "Ian! Did you color that?" As if I were an idiot, he said, "Um. Yes."
I could not believe my eyes. My baby had colored a picture. Although not completely finished, he'd stayed in the lines, and he'd used the appropriate colors. He had never, ever done that before. Ian hates coloring. He comes home from Sunday school almost every time with a blank color page. The few times he had colored it was with one color scribbled over the entire page. Obviously, just to appease us and say he'd colored. I immediately called Brian. I held my composure long enough to share what all he told me and that he'd had a good day. Then I lost it. I squeaked out, "And he colored a picture!" Sobs followed. "Are you okay, Sweetheart? It's good that he colored a picture, but why are you crying?" He was giggling at me. Understandably. He shares an office with another guy and I'm sure the image of his wife sobbing over a color page was a tad humorous to anyone on the other side of the phone. "Brian, you don't understand. He colored it! Like he really colored it! In the lines and everything!" Now he was getting it. "Did he use different colors?," he asked in a slightly disbelieving voice. "He did! The teddy bear is brown and the sun is yellow!" More sobs. He laughed and told me to make sure I told Ian how proud he was. We said goodbye and I immediately called my mother. I had less composure for the beginning of this conversation. I squeaked out most of it and kept repeating myself because my mother doesn't have canine capacity hearing. Then the sobbing and snorting started again. At this point I'm beginning to realize how ridiculous I must sound and how I may be overreacting. Just a tad. Thankfully my mother understands and she was very excited for me. A bit scared for me but mostly excited.
We celebrated Ian's fantastic, unbelievably wonderful first day with ice cream at Menchie's. I think I cried two more times that day when reflecting on how well it went. Above and beyond all expectations. I can only believe my Savior had a hand in this. He loves Ian more than I can ever hope to, so it's not surprising that he could give him such a great first day!
I have to admit.... The next morning I asked his teacher if he had actually colored the picture by himself. I hate to say it, but I wondered if he'd had help. That's how unbelievable it was! She assured me he'd done it himself. Phew! I'd have been sobbing all over again for a different reason if she'd stated the opposite. Shame on me for doubting him!
One Super Proud Momma