Excuse me while I have a meltdown in your classroom.

This week I joined mothers around the world at my child’s kindergarten-school orientation. My first born child’s orientation. My first orientation.

I was a wreck. A misplaced wreck considering this was just a meet and greet, not his first day. I know his sweet teacher thought I was a bit over the top with emotion. Crazy first time momma. Smh.

When we walked into the classroom Clare de Lune was playing.

~go ahead, listen while your read~


Beckett is my first born. Everything we have done right and wrong as parents is wrapped up in his little six years. Our guinea pig, our Baby Wise baby, our forget this-nothing works baby, our I have no idea what I am doing baby. Beckett was colicky. Beckett, as an infant, was challenging.

We had a beautiful Eddie Bauer bassinet for him. His first bed. His own space. He hated it. The only place he wanted to sleep was in bed with Mommy and Daddy and the only thing that soothed him was the music box on his bassinet. The music box that played Clare de Lune. Over, and over, and over.

So as I stood by his desk listening to his teacher talk about daily schedules, pick-up routines and lunch times all I could see was Beckett, my amazing five year old, looking at me smiling with the same crescent shaped baby eyes that starred at me for hours listening to that music box.

Sweet Kindergarten Teacher talked and my eyes misted over.

I had held him for hours sitting upright so he would sleep, and maybe I would also. We bought every over the counter gripe-water-tummy-soother to make his crying cease. We fought and failed at breast feeding, submitting to formula just to gain sanity in the house. Every fear I was unaware of surfaced when he came home. I told my father one day “Dad, he just really doesn’t like me” out of exhaustion and emotion. He pushed us, stretched us, scared us and showed us what to love really meant.

And, the only thing that would make him sleep without a fight, was that song.

Beckett Crying,

Beckett traveled all over the country with us as we sought after what God wanted for our family. He transitioned so well, never complaining, never questioning, always embracing the next adventure.

Every memory, every moment of parenting blindly, every doubt and thought of giving up gathered in my eyes. One blink and all of those memories came falling down my face. Somehow, by miracle and merit, we had made it to this milestone.

I wanted to shake, and then bear hug Sweet Kindergarten Teacher and ask her “Do you KNOW who this kid is? How lucky you are to have him sitting in this classroom? How he will light up your life and make you smile when you see him? Have I made it obvious by my sudden outburst of tears and apologies for crying?”

I wanted to tell her, that very morning, Beckett’s momma was having a rough day, retreating back to bed. Beckett’s dad came home a little after 10 a.m. to find her in the bed and children running rampant. I wanted her to know that Beckett’s dad sat on the bed, held her hand, and said ‘I love you’ as she stared at the wall. I wanted her to know that Beckett followed his father’s lead, assuring his mother the day would be ok and that he could help out with the babies.

All of that, falling out of my eyes, as she smiled and talked and Beckett familiarized himself with the classroom.

Being a mother is a head trip sometimes.

Beckett loved his first day. LOVED IT. I know Sweet Kindergarten Teacher did her job well that first day, and we are lucky to have her. And I totally held it together. He told me during nighttime prayers “Mom, today was the best day of my life.”


I wonder if I will always be crazy-momma-crying on first days for my children. College, marriage; will it all be the same?  In order to provoke that same reaction for Liam, the teacher will have to be jamming Katie Perry’s Roar. Haha.

I just don’t want to let go of his hand yet. He still reaches for mine though, and for as long as he does I will hold on tight.

If you still have little hands to hold in the house, hold them. Hopefully you have big hands to hold as well, to help with letting go of the little ones when it’s time to let go.

I have two more first school day orientations to survive! Lord help us!

Until then, no more Clare de Lune!

photo (4)


2 thoughts on “Excuse me while I have a meltdown in your classroom.

  1. I cried during the meet and greet for my son Aiden’s kindergarten year too. I actually cried when registering him for Pre-K. And I just cried thinking about you crying for Beckett. As much as motherhood can wear on is day in and day out, it’s moments like this, when they really start to grow up, that all the hard days pale in comparison.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s