This year I sent
my baby to Kindergarten. I thought I was so ready. All the other moms were sad
to see their babies go. I wasn’t sad. Not one bit. They all said, “Just wait
until you drop her off. The tears will just start falling.” I doubted it. I was
excited for her. She had been home with me for six years. She enjoys
socializing and getting away from me for a little while. It was time!
And then I
dropped her off. I was an emotional wreck. I kept it together and looked calm
and collected but inside I was one anxiety laced thought away from a panic
attack. I wasn’t upset that we wouldn’t see each other as much or sad that she
is growing up. No. My problem was that I couldn’t shake that uneasy feeling
that all those little innocent children are just sitting ducks in the
classroom. I didn’t realize how much the Sandy Hook tragedy seeped into my
subconscious. I literally wanted to go home, grab a chair in a bag, and sit
outside the school building guarding it from anyone who looked remotely crazy.
I ended up going home and then driving back by the school every couple hours
just to make sure everything looked ok. I think I must have circled the school
four times that day. I was the one that looked crazy.
A few weeks
later, we received an email from the school informing us that the students
would be participating in an intruder drill. Seriously! I tried to prepare my
daughter in advance that an intruder is just someone that isn’t supposed to be
at the school, like maybe someone who wanders into the cafeteria because
they’re hungry. I tried to play it off like it was just like a fire drill and
it wasn’t a big deal. After school, my daughter told me all about the drill and
what she learned. They prepared the kids for an intruder inside the building
and for someone outside trying to get in. She told me I was wrong about what an
intruder is. She told me it’s someone who wants to take kids. Good Lord, what
did that school tell them?!
Needless to say,
after the intruder drill, my daughter didn’t want to go back to school. She was
afraid someone would come in to get her. She asked me what she should do if
there was someone inside the building and someone outside the building and the
building was on fire. All. At. The. Same. Time. She thinks like her mom. I told
her to run home.
Four months
later, we’re both doing much better. She walks into her class with more
confidence and I’ve stopped circling the school. Although, if I have to run an
errand I always choose the path that takes me by the building…just so I can see…
It makes me sad
that my six year old knows a world where crazy people will “take kids”. She
thinks that means kidnapping but we all know what it really means. How did we
get here? When did dropping off a child for the first day of Kindergarten turn
into more than just worrying they would have a bathroom accident or they would
struggle to read? It’s so much more now. I wasn’t prepared for those emotions.
I wish I could say the fears go away. They don’t. The way I cope with them is
by replacing the scary thoughts with actual positive experiences, like playing
silly rhyming games on the way to school or laughing over hot chocolate about
the latest funny thing one of her friends did. I’m choosing to give attention
to the positive. It’s a choice. Not always easy. But it keeps me from circling
the school one more time.
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