Last Day of School

Dear Connor,

So this past week was both your first and last week of preschool. Even though many little kids start going to school when they are around 2 years old, a part of me thought it might be too early for us to put you in school and that part of me may have been right--you cried on the first day of school, you cried more on the second day and you cried a LOT today, so much that the director called me 45 minutes after I dropped you off and told me to come back and get you. Yikes.

On the second day of school, PoiPoi dropped you off and you were fine. But then after awhile, you started to cry for me and Daddy and didn't stop until PoiPoi went back to your school early to join you, your classmates and their parents for your class's holiday party. Once you saw PoiPoi, you stopped crying but you were hesitant to participate in the party festivities, preferring to stand next to PoiPoi and the other parents instead of sitting in a circle with your classmates. 

I dropped you off today and you didn't even want to go into the classroom. You kept asking to go down the stairs instead and only walked into the classroom after I promised I would go in with you. You clutched my hand so tight as we walked down the hallway that you'd think we were walking toward a torture chamber, not a bright, sunny room filled with books, toys and art supplies. Once we were in the room, I hung up your jacket and backpack on your own labeled hook and you motioned for me to hang my jacket on the hook next to yours. When I didn't and said I had to go, you started crying loudly and grabbed onto me, desperate for me not to leave you. Your teacher came over and tried to distract you with toy trucks but it didn't work. I didn't want to leave you like that but I'd read that when dropping you off at school, I should act like me leaving is no big deal so that you would see that it is no big deal. So I kissed you, told you I'd be back to get you in a few hours, left you wailing in the arms of your teacher, walked out the door and then crumbled into about a million pieces out in the hallway. It was SO hard for me to leave you when you were so upset. I could hear your wails all the way to the elevator and wanted to wail along with you. Were you going to be okay? Should I go back to the classroom? Would your teacher let me stay in class with you today? These questions were racing through my head but when the elevator arrived, I took a deep breath and stepped inside. All kids go through separation anxiety and this was just something that you and I would have to work through. Right? 

Maybe, but now might not be the time for us to work through it. Shortly after I got back home after dropping you off, the director called, said you were inconsolable and that I had to come back and get you right away; I could hear your loud sobs clearly in the background. PoiPoi was already near the door so she threw on her jacket and raced over to your school so fast that she was drenched in sweat by the time she got there. When you two got back home, you gave me a big hug and looked so, so sad. I held you tightly and asked you about school:

Me: You didn't want to go to school today?

You (softly): Uh-unh.

Me: You don't like school?

You: Uh-unh.

Me: You don't like your teachers or your classmates?

You: Uh-unh.

Me: Did you want to come home?

You: Uh-huh. 

I had called the director while PoiPoi was going to get you and she said that while many kids cry during their first few days of school, they often stop after 15 to 20 minutes and are able to join the rest of the class. You, however, cried and cried and cried and nothing--no toys, no books, no songs--could get you to stop. I definitely don't blame you. Except for your time in the NICU right after you were born, Daddy and I have never left you anywhere with people you don't know. You have always been with us, your grandparents or your nanny. Looking at it from your perspective, it must have been terrifying for you to be so suddenly left in this strange room you'd never been in with adults and kids you'd never seen, with all of the people you love and trust nowhere to be found. I am so, so, so sorry for making you feel so scared and abandoned and I'll try my hardest never to make you feel that way again.

The school director said we should take you out of school for now and wait until you're a little older. After seeing how traumatized you were this past week, that's what we're going to do. I was excited for you to start school this week but there's no rush. In a few years, you'll be going to school full-time so I don't mind keeping you at home with me for just a little longer.

Love,
Mom