Today was Parker’s first day in his 3s class. He will be going three mornings a week. Even though he ended up LOVING his 2s class and looked forward to going and cried on the days Thomas was in school and he wasn’t, it’s been a bit harder to psyche him up for the 3s.
This summer he attended two 3-day (morning) weeks at his school for camp sessions. I don’t know why (well, I have my guesses but I won’t put that on the blog), but he HATED it. He cried most of the time he was there and begged not to go back. This was so very unlike Parker and the experience we had come to know with him and school. Part of it was that he didn’t have any familiar faces in his class, but he just hated it. The only day he remotely liked was the last day, and he went around the whole morning telling everyone he encountered that it was his last day.
When Thomas started school last week, the anxiety started to set in for Parker. He kept saying how he didn’t want to go to school and despite the fact that I kept reassuring him that he didn’t have to go last week (and that when he did return to school he’d have a wonderful teacher and lots of his friends with him), he still was not happy. SEVERAL nights over the past week, he has woken up in the middle of the night and cried out “I don’t want to go to school!” Last night was no exception.
So this morning was tough. Though I should say, he went to his school open house on Saturday and loved the classroom and the teachers and spent most of the day yesterday saying “YEAH SCHOOL! I love school! School is so much fun!” But this morning, he no longer shared these beliefs.
By the time it was time to head out the door, he was starting to let me know that he really didn’t want to go. He wasn’t crying, but he was pouting and not cooperating at all. I asked him to take a picture for me on the steps and this is what I got – “Smile bookbag!”
Where was Parker? Hiding in the garage, refusing to even touch his bookbag and nametag.
When we reached his school, the pouting quickly changed to anger and then a complete meltdown. You can’t tell so much here, but he’s bawling in this picture.
It was super hard to even get him out of the carseat because he fought me with every ounce of his 40 pounds. He cried the whole way inside and even though I pointed out his friends when he arrived at his classroom, he was undeterred in his tears. Quickly I realized I needed to go and the assistant teacher stepped in and offered to take him. I agreed that was best and she took him…but he quickly took a fistful of my hair in each hand. I had to pry each finger away, all the while he is screaming and crying in my ear. And just when I thought I got away, he reached out and latched on to another handful of hair. Note to self: put hair in a bun for next drop-off.
Less than three hours later I returned for pick-up. I was quickly assured by someone in the front office that he quickly calmed down and had a great day. When he came out he looked happy and calm. When he saw me, he was thrilled and jumped into my arms, but he assured me that he had a great day (even though “I cried just a little bit.”). His teacher told me he cried for about two minutes and then was perfectly happy the rest of the morning.
He even gladly agreed to pose for a picture as we were leaving. Silly boy.
When we got home, he graciously agreed to accompany his bookbag for a few “first day” photos on the steps.
“I’m a 3-year old in the 3s!”
Parker, I am glad your day improved and I hope you have a wonderful year in the 3s. I know you will have so much fun!
As for me, it’s a lot easier the second time around. Then again, I suppose if I let myself think more about the fact that this is the LAST time I will have a little boy in the 3s, it might make me a bit misty-eyed. My boys are growing up way too fast!
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