and now, the deluge.
for two whole days, BC has been doing pretty well at her new school. yes, there was trauma when the gym teachers told her she needed to wear lace-up sneakers and not velcro; yes, there was sturm und drang when her PE teachers at her old school told her new gym teachers that she was “good” (“mama, there’s SO MUCH PRESSURE on me now to do a good job!” she wailed at me. in fact, i told her, they probably meant that you’re a good kid. which you are, by the way. you do know that, right?) yes, there’s trauma in the fact that lunch tables are assigned (and doesn’t start until 12:50), that new places in the school have to be found and noted, new friends need to be made. girlfriend seemed to weather things okay, even though she ended up playing by herself on the playground yesterday.
until this morning.
we walked into the auditorium where the kids wait to be let into school. we sat near the third grade enclave. only, the girls sat like little noah’s ark refugees. two by two, they seemed to be paired up in unbreakable groups. apparently, this was too much to bear. BC put her head on my shirt and started to weep. my shirt became very wet very quickly. i patted her back and tried to help her calm down, but it was of no use. when it was time to walk to her class, girlfriend put a deathgrip on my arm. we walked into her class, BC firmly implanted into my side. i smiled at the teacher, and the teacher, bless her, came over and tried to extricate. but extrication was futile. “you know,” she said to BC, “your mommy can’t stay in third grade.”
“no,” i added. “i already passed the third grade.”
the teacher smiled. “yes, your mommy will answer all the questions and not give the other kids a chance to answer them. it won’t be fair.”
(is this woman psychic? 😉
but nothing doing. a few minutes later, a little girl came over and asked BC if she wanted to read with her. so together we moved over to the reading corner, where a few girls and a boy sat. one girl looked at BC confused, wondering what the heck was wrong with her. i put on my best mommy voice and said, “you know, it’s hard to be the new kid. i bet you all were new kids somewhere sometime.” one girl said that she was new to the school in kindergarten and didn’t even know how to speak english. other kids nodded on the new part.
BC continued the deathgrip.
finally, it was time for the class to listen to another teacher tell a story about a dog. BC’s teacher came over and told her that she needed to come pick out a sticker and that i needed to leave. the sad, red face looked at me. i tried to say “have a great day” in my cheeriest tone. she scowled. and i left.
and i walked out of that school as fast as i could so that no one could see me crying.
when i got home after hitting the grocery, i saw i had a message. oh, no. i bet they’re punting her for crying, i thought. when hellboy was three at BC’s old elementary school, i would get calls when he’d had an accident in his pants. could i come and clean him up? apparently, no one there could, and i’d race to the school, wondering how long my kid had to walk around in soiled pants, especially when he had a clean pair in his cubby. if her old school was pretty easy about sending kids home or calling parents in, i wonder what her new school does…
i listened to the message. the teacher wanted me to know that while she was teary after i left, BC bucked up and was having a good day and was now in music class. she thought she’d call and tell me because she’s a mom, too, and she knows what its like.
i think i’m going to like the third grade. again.
