My 5 year old DS2, A, is now a week and a half into Kindergarten and his experience there has been so/so. Today wasn't so great (although, as bad as it went, it wasn't his worst day).
He had a rough start to the morning, not liking the cereal for breakfast, which progressed into an even harder time when it came time to get dressed. The shirt he wanted to wear was dirty and he refused to pick a different shirt. Then came time to brush his hair and teeth. A is highly affected by sensory stimulation and it varies daily whether or not it is a positive experience or not. Today, it was not. Being slow out of the gate caused us to be behind schedule and wound up 10 minutes late to school.
We normally arrive as soon as the gates open up, 25 minutes before his Kindergarten class starts, but today we only had 15 minutes before class. Sounds like plenty of time right? No. A and his older, 1st grade, brother, E, eat breakfast at school before class starts. Wait. Didn't I just feed them breakfast before we left? Yes, yes I did, but by the time all 5 children wake up, eat breakfast, and get out the door, it has been over an hour and they are hungry again. They can't make it to recess/snack time unless they eat their second breakfast. They must be part Hobbit. After A made it through the cafeteria line and sat down at a table he now only had 8 minutes before class started. He only made it about half way through his sliver dollar sized sausage and cheese biscuit and half pint of milk before it was time to go.
We made it over to his class right as the last student walked through the door. I gave A a hug and kiss and hurried him along. I waited a moment then left. Not more than 5 seconds later I hear his distinctive sob and call for MOM! Uh-oh. I turn around to see him running out the door, face covered in tears and teacher chasing after him. So I pull a U-ey with the stroller and speed up so I can cut him off at the gate. (You didn't forget about the other 3 kids I have been toting along did you?) His teacher, Mrs. S, said he walked in, shoved a kid, and ran out sobbing. Why A? Why? All he would say was that he wanted to go home. I took his hand and walked him back to class. Mrs. S asked him to sit on the carpet for the morning songs and story. Still holding hands, I was about to walk him to the carpet when I look up and... Ahhh, here we go...I see what happened...I saw what A saw. I flashed back to his first day at school when he was too shy to go sit on the carpet by himself. I held his hand, walked him up to the front corner of the carpet, and sat him on a red square. Now, I was about to repeat that very same action when, what did I see? A classmate sitting on that red square on the front corner of the carpet. I bet anything that was the kid he shoved. A quick talk with the teacher and it was confirmed. His teacher tried to console A and showed him that there was another red square on the carpet. That was a no go. The oh so sweet boy who was sitting on the magical, mystical, special, corner positioned, red square caught on to what was going on and scooted over so that A could sit there. Both his teacher and I talked to A about using words instead of hands hoping to get through to him. I walked him over to his favorite red square, but he wouldn't let go of my hand. His teacher managed to unclench A's hand and slide her own into his.
I made it home with my 3 littles and fed them their second breakfast/snack. We played a bit, cleaned up a bit, folded towels a bit. I just got done changing baby R's diaper when my phone rang. My stomach dropped when I saw the caller ID flash the school's name on my screen. It was the school nurse calling to say that A had an potty accident and needed a change of pants. We hung up and I went to A's drawers to fetch him some clean under things. As soon as I reached his dresser my phone rang again. The school nurse said she wasn't sure if he had had an accident after all. His pants looked dry. The nurse, who was clued in on the morning's events, speculated that maybe A was using an accident as a way to leave school. I told the nurse that A doesn't usually have #1 accidents...he has #2 accidents (the horrible lasting affects of a very bad stomach bug he caught 7 months ago). So the nurse tried to sneak a peek into his underwear to see if there was an accident after all. But wait...what is this? A's underwear...they were missing?!!? Missing? Yes, missing. I am sure he was wearing a pair when he got to school but they aren't on his derriere now. My head was spinning with worry. Are there poop laden underwear hidden somewhere in his class room? Did he leave them laying on the bathroom floor, easily found? Or did he tuck them under a bookshelf or into a toy basket or into his backpack or or or...WHERE WOULD HE PUT THEM? The nurse thought it best if I stay home so A doesn't have to go through the separation issues again, and she assured me she would search the classroom for his missing undergarments.
Fourty-five minutes later it was time to get A from his half-day Kindergarten class. I waited outside the gate for his class to be dismissed. The school bell rang, the class door opened, and the other teacher, Mrs. R, led the class, single file, to the student pick-up line. At the far end of the line I saw A. My happy, smiling boy was joyfully wiggling and waggling his signature happy walk. His backpack was bouncing around behind him as if it was a cowboy trying to hold onto a bucking bull. I breathed a sigh of relief that he at least ended the day well. Mrs, R informed me that A did have a rough day and didn't receive his "good day paw print" that gets handed out at the end of the day. As for his underwear...they are still MIA. And remember, this wasn't his worst day.
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