school is where we practice being brave and kind

I heard a statement once that I think about all the time: “Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.” How true and how amplified the day a new school year begins.

On Wednesday Elliott started all-day kindergarten at a new (to him) school across town, with a new bus driver, a new teacher and new friends. My stomach was in knots on Wednesday imagining how petrified he might be at all the newness, including eating lunch at school and interacting with a broader school community than the small self-contained Early Childhood pre-school class he was in last year. I felt like we were throwing him to the wolves. And I ached knowing I couldn't be there for him.

He survived, but not without a seizure-like episode that night (episodes which we now see so clearly are triggered by anxiety) and a full-on tantrum the next morning about boarding the bus. I should have known trouble was brewing when he marched off the bus that first afternoon and boldly declared, "I all done school!" Like he had tried it and found it not to his liking.

Sending him back put a little dagger into the heart I wear around outside. 

My son would love nothing more than to lie on the couch with his blankie and watch Alvin and the Chipmunks or play with his cars for hours on the floor. In a perfect world, his mom would be home 24/7, we'd take a daily trip to the pool and the ice cream shop and never visit a doctor. Going to school would be completely out of the question.

In a perfect world, I could put my heart back in my chest cavity. Instead, I ache and bleed for a worried, confused little boy who dreads hearing that "yes" there is school today.

But he has a wonderful teacher and has been put into a classroom where he can get the help he needs to succeed academically. As an added bonus, he gets to practice being brave. As much as it pains me to see him stretch, I know that the courage he musters will just add to the incredible beauty this boy already shows us.

Eventually he will like school. Until then, I just hope my heart can survive.

::
For all moms sending kids back to school this year, I highly recommend this wonderful letter Glennon Melton of Momastery wrote to her third-grade son. I read my own version of it to my third-grade son, knowing that he will meet many "Elliotts" in his school career.

It doesn't matter how smart my third grader is or how popular. It matters that he's kind, and brave. The brave that's not required but that can change the world. To practice bravery in all its forms and to extend kindness when it's not the cool thing to do—that is success in school.

the best thing about working is not working

After four consecutive days with some of the people I love most in this world, I am reminded of one of the great benefits of having a job: Time off is nothing short of heavenly. It is difficult not to fully appreciate being together when most of the time you are apart. It is difficult not to soak up every moment in the beautiful natural world when most of the time you're inside sitting at a desk. It is also difficult to go back to a working life. But, alas, a day of not working will come again. I can hardly wait.

he keeps us laughing

Although Elliott has a ways to go when it comes to creating original sentences, he is a master imitator. We have been warned told several times that between the crazy faces he makes to entertain us (and himself), his sense of comedic timing and his ability to mimic so precisely, we quite possibly have the next Jim Carey on our hands. Lord, help us.

Here are a few of the hilarious things coming out of his mouth these days:

:: When he gets frustrated, such as when his push mower (that he pushes all over town) gets stuck, he yells at it. “No, meanie!” he says exactly in the tone, say, his mother might shout no. It's probably about as effective with the mower as it is with the child.

:: One of Andrew’s phrases is coming back to haunt him. Elliott has been exerting his authority over the cats when they don’t obey him (which means all the time) by furrowing his brow and bending over them and admonishing, “You cheeky bugger!” My favorite, though, is when he gets frustrated with his dad and stubbornly admonishes him. When you hear this British phrase with a slight British accent coming out of the mouth of a five year old, it’s terribly hard not to laugh.

:: Speaking of laughing…the past couple of weeks we’ve been treated to a lot of mooning, accompanied with the bold command, “Feast your eyes!” I think he heard his brother say this once (who saw it in the movie Brave) and, not surprising to us, it stuck. The funniest part, besides the little white butt in the air, is that he knows he's hilarious and it just cracks him up.

:: Perhaps not as funny (to us) is the influence Ricky Gervais has has on our son. When Liam was born, a good friend of mine gave him the book That's Disgusting. Again, no surprise to us, it's become Elliott's favorite. Thus, we do not believe it is any coincidence that last week Elliott came to Andrew and earnestly begged him, "Dad, smell finger. Smell! Smell!" Just like a page out of the Gervais book, Elliott stuck his finger in the cat's behind. And he loved how "gross" it was. 

Oh, Lord, help us.