God, be with us, today is a big day.
My oldest baby is heading off to kindergarten. All-day, five-days-a-week, brand new school, will-ride-the-bus kindergarten.
I have ridden a roller coaster of emotions the past two weeks as we have prepared for this day. It is not that I cannot believe my baby is starting kindergarten. It is not that I am sad to have her grow up. She is ready for kindergarten. She is healthy, and happy, and intelligent, and curious... I am so excited for her to grow into a strong, brave, independent, beautiful young lady.
What I have realized over these past two weeks is that for five-and-a-half years, I have feared adults in Tracey's life.
I have feared adults at the playground, the supermarket, in the parking lot, at the shoe store. I have been afraid of evil adults regarding my daughter (and all of my children). My job, as a mother has been to protect my innocent baby girl from those who could do her harm. I have been on guard and on alert much of the last five-and-a-half plus years.
Of course, I also fear cleaning supplies, and high tables, and choking hazards... but, above all, I have feared my fellow man.
Now, she is ready for kindergarten. She is nervous... but she is ready.
Now, for really the first time as a mother, I am fearing children.
I am fearing the other children in the school who are not mine and who I have not raised. The children who use language that Tracey has never heard. The children who do not share our believes or disbelieves and who think they know everything. The children who are unkind. The children who see the world differently than we have taught our child to see the world.
Ever since her siblings were born, anywhere Tracey went without one of her parents, with almost zero exceptions, she has been with a sibling. We teach our children to look out for one another -- to travel together -- to help one another.
And now, my oldest child; my first born baby girl is going into her very own school with no parents and no siblings.
It is not that I am afraid for her -- I know she can do it. I just know she has never been asked to do anything like this before in her life and tomorrow is a big day. I know she will love her new school and she is so ready to learn everything this year will teach her -- but I also know that I can't do this first day for her.
This is my first day of a kindergarten... but this is not about me.
This is the first day of the rest of her life, being asked to rise to a level she's never had to before.
When she started school at age 2, and then moved up to preschool at age 3, there were tears when I said goodbye. But I was able to physically hand her to a loving teacher and wave bye-bye. Then, the kind teacher, texted me a picture within ten minutes showing me that my baby girl was happy and engaged and the drama was over.
Tomorrow, she has to climb on that bus herself, and she has to be brave as it drives away without me and without her siblings.
Tomorrow, she has to get off the bus in front of that big new school and she has to walk inside and find her cubby and her classroom -- (of course kind teachers will be there to help).
Tomorrow, she has to navigate the first day of kindergarten. She has to make new friends. She has to remember where her lunchbox is for the first time in her life. She has to remember to keep track of her lunchbox to bring back home.
Tomorrow, she has to get back on a bus at the end of the day -- hopefully with her backpack and lunchbox.
Then, tomorrow, she has to stay on the bus until she reaches the stop where I will be waiting.
For my five-and-a-half-year-old, that is a whole day of education right there. She has never done any of those things by herself and tomorrow she will do it all.
I will end this post with what is written inside Tracey Ann's backpack:
"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them,
for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor
forsake you."
- Deuteronomy 31:6
