Transitions.

The first day of Kindergarten. A momentous occasion. It’s funny how the majority of us spend the first five years of our children’s lives longing for this very day only to be sad or mystified that the time has gone by so fast.

I have been ready for Andrew to start Kindergarten for awhile now and although we all know he is ready, he has needed some convincing of that. The new, the different, the anticipation of the unknown. These are not his friends. That coupled with mood swings that change with the speed of passing cars can make for meltdowns of epic proportions.

I feel like I have prepared him as much as I could and so I sat on pins and needles this morning waiting to see which mood came thumping down the stairs. To my surprise he was happy as a clam. A happy clam with some very specific ideas on how his first day would start.

He wanted pancakes for breakfast. Pancakes that he would make all by himself because, after all, he is in Kindergarten now and that’s just what Kindergarteners do. He’s certain of it!

He picked out his clothes and dressed himself. Nothing new or out of the ordinary here, with the exception of the long sleeve shirt he chose on this hot and humid mid-August day.

This is what Kindergartener’s wear to school. He is certain of this too. I headed upstairs to pick out a new shirt for him but then had to ask myself; if a long sleeve shirt will get him out the door without Sydney and I carrying him by his limbs, do I really care if I have to treat him for minor heat stroke when we get home? No. Not really.

And as we headed out to begin our walk to school, and he tore out of the garage on his 4-wheeler

I argued that Kindergartener’s usually ride their bicycles or scooters to school. Perhaps he should choose a different mode of transportation. He told me that this Kindergartener is riding his 4-wheeler to school because that’s what he wants to do. So I had to ask myself; if riding the 4-wheeler to school will help him walk through the school doors without causing a scene, do I really care that it may not be sitting out there when I go back to pick him up? No. Not really.

At school we rounded the corner of the blacktop where all the grade school kids are lined up waiting for the doors to open. I retied my running shoes (just in case I needed to make a mad dash out of there) and held my breath as he walked over and got in line.

They walked into the building single file, the door closed behind them and he never looked back. The relief was overwhelming.

And so when the morning came to an end and he appeared in the doorway with this smile on his face,

I realized then that the pancake mess all over the kitchen, the long sleeve shirt on a hot and humid day, and the 4-wheeler that looked very out of place in the bike rack

were independent victories that helped make his transition into Kindergarten that much easier.