My five-year-old is starting Kindergarten this year, and my three-year-old is starting nursery school—two big milestones for my little guys!—but I’m neither worried nor stressed about it for either of them. The school and classrooms and routines are familiar to them from observing their brothers and tagging along with me to school for their whole lives. The teachers are the same as the ones their brothers have had. It’s clear to me that they’re ready, and I’m very comfortable in the role of Mom of Kindergartener and Preschooler. I’m also comfortable in the role of Mom of Second Grader and Fourth Grader, as my next two older boys will also be walking a path already forged for them by the brother ahead—same classrooms, same teachers, same expectations. I’m excited for them all, and not concerned in the least.
The one that’s most on my mind is my biggest boy, who himself is headed for something completely and totally new, both for himself and for us as a family: He’s going to middle school, with its new building and new teachers and new routines and new responsibilities.
One of the very first articles I wrote for Saratoga TODAY was about my oldest going to school for the first time. I’ve referred to that piece a few times since, usually in my annual back-to-school column, but this year it has particular poignancy for me because of how similar my thoughts and emotions were back then to how they are now:
“Thomas was so excited when I woke him up on his first day of school, much earlier than usual, to eat breakfast. He wore a handsome new sweater with a collared shirt underneath. He [started in January and] had his new school sneakers packed in his Thomas the Tank Engine backpack. I’d labeled all his things the night before — snowpants, hat, gloves, coat, backpack. I had ready the bag of juice and crackers each parent was asked to donate. I re-read the preschool “manual” to be sure I knew everything that was expected of Thomas and me. And I tried to ignore the straining in the hollow of my throat — I wasn’t just sad at the end of the Thomas-is-my-baby-at-home-with-me-every-day era and the beginning of a new stage of my motherhood, but I was sad because I was afraid that he would change and become a new little boy because of school — a new boy in ways I wouldn’t want.
“I hated to think that some of his innocence might be lost at school. You know how kids are — the Thomas the Tank Engine backpack that he’d previously loved and was excited to wear to school might very well become the very thing that some other kids … would tease him about, and he’d come home insisting he hated his Thomas the Tank Engine backpack and would never use it again. Or the new sneakers we’d gotten him just for school might be so very un-cool that he’d come home in tears because of being teased (even though we’d tried so hard to find sensible, not-too-expensive-or-trendy sneakers that would still pass muster as acceptable in the eyes of Thomas’ three-year-old classmates). I was totally shredded by imagining such things happening to him, and I prayed some of the most fervent prayers of my life that we were doing the right thing by sending Thomas to school.
“Thankfully, it turned out as well as it possibly could have because Thomas loved school. He loved the other kids, he loved the toys in the classroom, he loved the art projects, he loved playing on the playground and his teachers and the crackers and juice he’d had for snack … and he didn’t once mention not liking his backpack or sneakers or anything else.
“And yes, I cried that afternoon, too, after he got home from school — with relief, with happiness, and still also with a little sadness that he and I had passed such a huge milestone.”
I could have written those words this very day about this middle-school milestone we’re both going through, swapping out “Thomas the Tank Engine backpack” and “crackers and juice” for “big boy backpack” and “big boy snack,” which would likely embarrass him, now that he’s such a big boy, so I won’t.
He had a morning-long Orientation at his new school before school officially started, which I was to attend with him, and while he seemed just the normal amount of nervous, I was an absolute wreck—I had trouble sleeping the night before, and couldn’t eat breakfast before we left, so knotted was my stomach. And for what? It’s a community we’re not unfamiliar with, and many of his elementary school classmates will be with him in the new school. I think it’s just the fact that it’s concrete evidence of how short the years are, despite the sometimes unending days.
I’m trying to remember that this is the whole point of being a mom—pointing your kids in the right direction and then walking forward, first with them in your arms, then holding their hand and pulling them along, then walking together until they’re ready to plot their own course. But it’s all forward motion, small steps and big steps, passing milestone after milestone, even if encountering a detour or two. There’s no stopping or going back. Until becoming a mom, I didn’t realize growing up was harder on the mom than it is on the child.
Whew! On that sobby note, I hope all your back-to-schools have been wonderful and that you’re settling into the new school year well!
Kate Towne Sherwin lives in Saratoga Springs with her husband and their sons ages 10, 9, 7, 5, 3, and 1. She can be reached at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it..
