Growing Up

Today was Punkin's first day of preschool.

We took him to meet his teacher and classmates last week. He walked into the classroom and shyly looked around at all the other children running around. They were just doing circle time and were starting to read a book and when Punkin saw that it was One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish he was very excited. It's one of his favorites to read with Austin.

We snuck in to the hallway with the teacher and peeked through the window to see him playing with trucks. We talked to the teacher about her curriculum and how we should handle potty training at school and when he usually naps. We peeked through the window a minute later to see him standing in the back of all the kids red faced and screaming with crocodile tears streaming down his face. He had realized we were gone and he was panicking.

Austin went and got him and carried him outside to where we were, and Punkin tugged on his hand saying "Come on, Daddy" as if to relay that he needed to get out of that place ASAP.

We've been trying to get him pumped for school ever since, telling him he would get to go play with friends and see Miss Sara (his teacher) and play on the playground. He wasn't enthused. Last time I asked "Hey, do you want to go see Miss Sara soon?!" he responded "Ummmmm....nooooooo".

So today was the day. We woke up late and scrambled to rush out the door. On the way there I talked to him about going to school, and he was fine until we got in to the classroom. He cried before we even left. I think all of the kids running around like crazy and being loud just overwhelmed him. We tried to get him to sit down and eat but he wasn't having it. We went ahead and left so it wouldn't be worse, and I fought back tears when I heard him wailing all the way down the hall.

On the way out we stopped in the parents room and had them turn the big TV to the channel that was his class so we could spy on him from a distance. Even with no sound you could see how upset he was. His teacher was holding him the entire time, trying to talk to him and make him feel better. We watched as a little girl walked up to him and offered him a toy and he refused it, pointing to the door we had just walked out of.

My Momma heart just broke. I felt like I was traumatizing him, like I was abandoning him. What if he thinks I'm never coming back? What if he thinks he's doomed to live there with a bunch of crazy kids forever? I know that's probably not true, but at that moment I felt like a horrible parent. I know he'd have so much fun with other kids and playing on the playground, he just has to be a little independent.

Sigh. I do not look forward to the day I have to do this all over again with Skeeter.