First day of school...

So, Kourtney entered the realm of public education today. I've been waiting for this day for some time now. Wondering how it was going to be, fantasizing about some time alone with Kloey (because we've never gotten much of that) and imagining how excited yet sad I would be for her.

Before I go any further, let me just show you a picture (the only picture I could get of her) of her first day of school. Be prepared... if looks could kill...

Really?!! Really?!! Let me just start by saying that after she found out that she wasn't going to be playing with toys all day (I've been telling her this all summer, yet it was apparently brand new information) she proceeded to act like I've never taught her a thing in her life. Oy! So we're sitting in the foyer of the school with other kindergarteners and their parents just waiting for the teachers to come and retrieve our children.

And she starts talking to me. I can't understand what she's saying because her fingers are shoved so far into her mouth that I'm afraid she's going to start gagging at any minute. And, to top it all off, she's talking in a baby voice. Now I know I know... she's scared, she's anxious, she's this, she's that. I know my kid. I know that she's shy. I also know that she knows how to play adults like a fiddle (although she doesn't play the fiddle, perhaps she'd excel at it?). Seriously, if she doesn't want to be somewhere or do something she pulls all the stops to get what she wants. We meet with a behavioral therapist regularly and he informs us of these types of things. I probably didn't handle things perfectly...

So I told her (jumping back to the story here) that she needed to talk like a big girl and get her fingers out of her mouth. She refused so I attempted to pull her fingers out so that I could more fully understand her. And she started hitting me. That's right, hitting me. She doesn't hit me. She knows better. She never gets away with that.

I had to push her away from me to get her to stop. Oh the looks I was receiving from the other parents! Looks of "*gasp* she physically assaulted her child" and "oh no! should we intervene?" and "that poor poor little girl, how could you?". And really folks? She was hitting me. So now I'm monumentally embarrassed. Fantastic.

Then the teachers emerge and ask the children to line up according to their teachers. So I grab Kourtney's hand and she jumps to the wall and starts whimpering. Will it never end? So I lean down really close to her ear and whisper as menacingly sweet as I can (I had lost all patience), "if you don't come over and stand in that line right now I will take every Merida toy that you got for your birthday and throw them all away". Well, she stood in the line.

And the teachers proceeded to start talking about some forms that we needed to fill out while we were there and we could follow our kindergartener to the classroom and what not. My child has her arms wrapped tightly around my leg and I knew if I bent down to hug her or anything it would have made it that much harder for her. I'm not heartless folks. I desperately wanted to hug her and hold her and kiss her and coddle her. But that would have done her zero justice.

I did stroke her hair a little and tell her that everything was fine. I then had to look at the teacher and inform her that it would be best if I just left right then and there. She nodded knowingly and I kissed Kourtney's head and walked out, exponentially disappointed and embarrassed about how this day went so differently than I planned or imagined.  *sigh* *sigh* *sigh*

I did catch a glimpse of her class walking to their classroom and Kourtney holding the teacher's hand. Oh, I just pray that this year she'll learn how to be more social. She was in preschool and never played with the other kids. She never plays with other kids in the park. And she just doesn't interact with kids. I worry for her. But I know that this is good for her. I wanted to coddle her. But I knew that if I did she would have fought even harder to not stand in line and not go to class.

And if I'm being honest, I was sad. True, it's just kindergarten. But no longer is she in my presence and under almost solely my example throughout the day. She has just entered the world of peers. For that is a scary thing. It is a great thing for so many reasons. And a scary one for just as many. I just pray that I've taught her well, despite what others may have thought of that cold, heartless witch of a mother dropping off her poor beaten down daughter at kindergarten. Shove it folks. I'm a good mom. And I know it.