Avery starts school tomorrow. Full day Junior Kindergarten, three days a week.
I….am a wreck.
Many kind people have reached out to tell me, “It’s ok. It gets easier. She’ll love it. You’ll be fine.” All thoughtful and well-meaning comments. And it’s true, she will love it. And she will be fine. But will I? And will it really get easier?
I felt the usual pangs and sentimental sorrow on my son’s first day of Kindergarten four years ago. But it got easier, fast.
But he didn’t stand out from his peers in a blatant and painfully awkward way. I didn’t have to meet with the school to discuss emergency procedures and ambulance protocol. He didn’t have to wear a helmet at recess to protect his curly haired head from frequent falls on the unforgiving blacktop. He didn’t have his own personal Educational Assistant shadowing his every move to ensure his safety. He didn’t wear a diaper. He didn’t receive quizzical looks from his peers or other parents. He was happy. He fit in. I didn’t worry.
But this is different. Now I worry. All the time. A lot.
We never thought we would see this day. Avery was never supposed to walk or talk or go to a regular school. But she does and she is.
This is the best thing for her. She is going to love school.
I know she’ll be ok.
But will I?