Dear Mrs L... Rocco's in Kindergarten!

A BUNCH of people have asked how I'm feeling about Rocco being a kindergartner, it's been hard for me to voice my mental state. I've spent hours trying to find the right words to explain my feelings. This post barely scrapes the surface of my thoughts and emotions, but here goes:

A couple days ago, armed with the list of requisite items, Seth and I took Rocco school supply shopping for the first time.  We let Rocco pick his lunchbox, a notepad, and a folder to go in his backpack. We let him pick some yummy treats to go in his lunch. We talked school up to him and made a big deal out of it. He was excited. I was nervous. I don’t really want to give up his first five years of childhood yet. I was feeling emotional; wavering between pride of how smart he is and how well he’ll do in school, and excitement for him to be starting something new, and fear of putting my precious little boy in someone else’s hands. I cannot begin to convey the bone deep terror I feel about this. My son, my special Baby boy, who’s not so much a baby anymore; is now going to have new woman in his life.  Someone who does not yet know or love him. Someone who will take over my role of teacher; At least when it comes to teaching subjects like Math, and Science, English and Social Studies (things I’m pretty crummy at teaching anyway! But still…). Someone who doesn’t love him the way I do. Someone who doesn’t understand him the way I do. Someone who doesn’t know that when he gets really grumpy or angry it’s because he’s hungry (even if he just ate!). Someone who doesn’t know it takes him forever to eat his lunch and he probably wont be done and might still be hungry after the 30 minute allotted lunch time. Someone who doesn’t understand how hard mornings are for him. Someone who doesn’t know the best way to soothe Him when he gets upset or when he cries. Someone who will have 20+ other kids trying to tell her things and might not have the patience or time to listen through Rocco’s stuttering to hear his story. Someone that’s not me…
Rocco may be 5 now, but he is still so little and helpless. And it is such a big and very bad world out there…

Yet, I am placing my dear sweet boy’s tiny hand in a stranger’s and praying that all will go well. My instincts tell me that I am making the right choice. He's ready for this. He's been ready. My gut tells me that Rocco will be able to learn and grow (academically) so much more with her than with me. She is, after-all, experienced in teaching 5 year olds. She is rumored to be one of the best. A few parents I know, trust, and respect have sung her praises (Yes, I shamelessly queried every connection I could about her).  And knowing this, I need to respectfully step back and let her do her job. I need to trust her experience and her love for rambunctious little five year olds. I need to fully trust this woman, this woman who has in the mid-section on the back wall of her classroom a little locker with the name of the boy who encompasses my whole world, and that means that he is a part of her class. I feel confident in this choice, and yet it is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do for Rocco.

So Mrs. L? This part of my blog-post is for you. 

Although you will most likely never see it.

I’m giving my most precious to you- Mrs. L- knowing that you will teach him, but also hoping you will care for him, and show him that he matters. Hoping you understand the difference you will make in his life (whether for good or otherwise). Praying that you recognize the awesome potential of your influence, and will help my Rocco discover the joy of learning and the wonders of school.   I wanted you, Mrs. L, to know of my struggle so that you realize what a special little boy it is that I am entrusting to your care for 7+ hours each weekday for the next year of his and my life.
I know Mrs. L, that I am asking a lot, but I want you to know that I will support you and remember that you are a person--- not a God,  and I therefore cannot expect perfection of you. I will try my hardest not to make your life any harder than it has to be. You can get sick, you can have your head turned during a minor bonk or scrape that might occasionally happen, you can even forget to send home his back-pack, his lunch box, or his folders. I will not expect perfection from you. I know you are human. But, I ask--- plead --- in return you will remember that this little boy is MINE! And he is my life. I would give my life for him (in fact I almost did). I want you to remember that when he is being difficult. I want you to grow to love him for the sweet, caring, and loving little guy that he is. Take the time to know my Rocco. This wonderful boy that holds my hand and cuddles with me every night, this little man who I pray for more times than I can count each day; he is mine. Remember that--- on those most difficult of days that I’m sure all teachers have, but especially kindergarten teachers--- remember you are holding my world in your hands.