Tonight I’m feeling like a giant marshmallow. Soft. Gooey. Lacking in substance and grace. The good news is…this is not the result of consuming globs of chocolate in my bedroom closet. Although, that would have been an excellent conjecture for those who know me well.
Today I had one of those darn awful moments where I almost cried in public. Wait it gets worse….at my children’s school. Hmmm…in front of other parents. And the sad part…it had nothing to do with my own kids.
Kindergarten Orientation for my youngest took place this morning. As the entire group gathered in one room to hear the agenda, I watched as my son quietly sat at a play table with several of his classmates. He was happy. I was happy. He was relaxed. I was sublime. All was right with the world. And then it wasn’t. At the direction of the principal the parents began filing out of the classroom to a conference room down the hall. I checked. Then double-checked. My son raised his hand in a half salute before returning his focus to the pile of dominoes lined up in front of him. My departure was not inducing any emotional reaction. THANK GOODNESS. Two steps out the door I hear several children begin to weep, followed by quiet words. Pleading words. Don’t leave. Just to make absolutely sure my kiddo was okey dokey I poked my head back around the corner. Still fine, were we.
But then the pressure behind my eyes began to build. Crap-a-docious. I was crying. Weird. As I marched quickly down the hall, I tried to explain. In hindsight that was probably a mistake. Cause really…there wasn’t a good excuse why I was the only one over the age of five struggling to find a tissue.
Guess who sat in the very last row? I was taking no further chances. I’m guessing this doesn’t bode well for the fall when kindergarten actually begins.