Life Lessons from the First Year of School

Today, I drove away from dropping my kids off at the last day of preschool with tears in my eyes, just as I had nine months ago when I dropped them off on the first day of school.  Except, instead of spending the ensuing two hours (which felt so long then) worrying about them, today I will rush to finish a few things and enjoy some quiet time, wondering where the time has gone, both the two hours and the nine months.  Some things change, some things don't, and in between are the lessons I've learned, including:

• At least in these early years, though maybe later (I'll have to wait and see), milestones like the first day of school or the first school picture are so much more important to me than to them.  Maybe that's because they live very much in the present, and I'm either looking back or ahead.
• Old patterns die hard:  even though I know I should phrase it differently, perhaps more enticingly, I still ask, "what did you do at school today?"  And they, of course, respond, "nothing."  But it's still good to ask.
• Other parents are only as judgmental as I imagine they are.  Did the other parents look askance when I had mine over- or under-dressed for the weather?  When the kids' hair wasn't brushed?  When I had forgotten the lunchbox?  Nope.  And I certainly didn't notice when they had similiar challenges or oversights.  We're all too busy with our own kids and lives to notice the mistakes in others'.  (And, in the event that I'm wrong and they are talking about us behind our backs, I find that imagining that everyone is live-and-let-live helps me get through my day.  No sense stressing about what you can't fix.).
• Yep, you'll forget the lunchbox.  And the book order money.  And the health form.  And the coat.  And you'll have to go home for it, or do without, and either way, it's okay.
• The teachers have seen it all before.  Yep, they've had twins there.  And lesbians.  And potty accidents.  And late health forms.  They aren't surprised or disturbed.  And they can be a great resource for advice, information, and support.  They might not spend as much time with my kids as I do, but they see them more clearly, see them with less guilt and more objectivity, see their public personae which I don't often witness.  And they've seen it all before . . . 
• Loveys make the school day easier.  Sis had Shirt, with all its new patches, in hand this morning, though Bud is less in need of his loveys these days (though he is more stressful about "drop-off" than he was).  
• Learn the names of the teachers immediately.  Then work on the other kids' names.  And their drop-off parent (even if you recognize them only as "so-and-so's mom."  That's your new name anyway.  I actually got good at recognizing cars too, well, only if they had bumperstickers).  You'll be seeing and hearing a lot about these people, who are new and important in all of your lives.
• Participate as much as possible in school activities--go to parent meetings, volunteer your time at school, attend extracurricular activities, buy the school t-shirt.  You're helping to build a new community for you and your kids.  And depending on your town (and it's how it was where I grew up) or life path (we never moved out of district), they could be with you for the next 12+ years.  
• Birthdays suddenly become a huge deal.  At our school, the kids are feted on their special day or half-day (go if invited, it's a huge deal).  And there is so much more talk about birthdays and parties and how old you are.  It's good to invite the whole class to the party and even better to go if invited, even if we never managed to be free for other birthday parties.  I'm going to work on this next year.
• Another thing I need to work on:  we didn't have playdates with any of our new friends, if only because we have such a large coterie of "old" friends (one of whom is in their class).  Over the summer, I'm going to try to arrange for us to see at least some of our school friends.  
• I loved visiting the kids' school (I think I went 3 times, not including the picnic--for half-birthday, Lunar New Year, and just this week to do a painting project a la Jackson Pollock, more on that later), both because I wanted to help out and because I loved seeing how their day was (even if it was never "normal" if I were there).  And it was so heart-warming for them to be proud of me, to want to show me things, to want to sit next to me at snack.  
• Paintings never dry during the course of the school day.  And even if you get paint or glue or glitter all over your hands and jacket and carseat, it's still the best art you've ever seen (the challenge, however, will be what to do with it all!  I haven't learned this yet).
• Half-eaten food is nasty and best cleaned out of lunchboxes immediately.  But, you'll forget that too and have to clean it out in a morning rush the next time.  And you'll hold your nose.  But you'll forget again.
• Weather matters more now than it used to (with less time to remember to check the report) for what clothes to wear, for whether they'll play outside.  On rainy days, like today, I pick up a little early as everyone gets stir-crazy inside.  And I never developed a good rule of thumb for if they needed a heavy coat, light coat, no coat, mittens/hat or not.  Especially because they never thought they needed any of it.  And yes, at least once each, they were the only kids without coats and the only kids in coats!
• Your kids see and hear everything at home.  And they talk.  And you won't know what they'll say until the teacher tells you.  Best not to say or do in front of the kids what you don't want those teachers to know about.  
• But the teachers won't know certain things unless you tell them.  Keep them abreast of seemingly insignificant as well as significant family events.  
• "That's not how we do it at school" will become a phrase in their repertoire.  
• There will be new songs and new stories and new games that you won't fully understand or comprehend.  For the first time (at least in my house), they will have experiences that you're not privvy to.  It's a good thing, really.  Especially because you can google most stories and songs to be ready when they ask you to sing it or tell it to them.  Which they will, not realizing that you don't know everything.  I know that perception is fleeting so I'm enjoying it now.  Even though I know I don't know everything.
• Your child will hit or be hit, misbehave and be talked to, and the teachers will have to talk to you too.  And you will be mortified and dwell on it.  And the kids will forget.
• Sickness spreads like wildfire and comes at the most inopportune times.  And you'll all miss their going to school.
• Those five minutes of dropping off and picking up your kids is chaotic--lunchboxes in cubbies, sign-in sheet to fill out, bulletin board to read, artworks and notices to gather, parents and kids and teachers to greet and talk to.  But the transition is hugely important. We have a beep-beep goodbye ritual for leaving and a hug-hello at pickup.  Most of what you know about their life at school will come to you in these small bursts.  And the information is crucial.
• A year ago, they couldn't recognize or spell or write even parts of their names, put on their coats by themselves, cut with scissors, ride a tricycle.  Now they can.  And so much more.  

And really, it's just the beginning.  For all of us.  Especially because I've noticed that most little school memory books and picture frames don't even count these first years of preschool.  Kindergarten is the real beginning.  I'm glad that's a ways off.  I still have more to learn.  But I'm going to take a lesson from the kids and try to be in the present today.  And all the long, unfilled days of summer . . . 

(I've been adding to this all morning!  The lessons learned and not learned yet go on and on).