The Big Day

My son starts school tomorrow. It is quite unfathomable that he has already reached the age of school-dom, even if it is just preschool. What happened to that tiny baby that I held in my arms? What happened to that little chubby body that was so determined to roll over? What happened to the little boy that absorbed my every waking moment? What happened to that toddler who stubbornly refused to use the potty? All I am left with is a tall, lanky preschooler, who is growing up too fast for my liking. A preschooler who is independent beyond all measure and gets annoyed if I try and help him in any way. A preschooler who is starting to form his own thoughts and opinions on the world, which surprise and baffle me at every turn.

Even though he is very intelligent and wise, I am worried about him going to school. He hasn’t had a lot of interaction with other children beyond soccer and playground romps, so I don’t know if he will handle a classroom full of children well. He also has a slight speech delay and tends to express himself more than he actually understands, which is totally ass backwards from the norm. It causes no end of trouble for some people because he will repeat what he hears or just repeat himself rather than stop and think for a minute and come up with an answer all his own.

I feel like I have failed him as a mother. The lack of interaction with other kids, the fact that he spent most of his learning years with me, and the whole, “I’m too lazy/tired/sad/freaked out to go outside today, dear” that I pulled for so long might have stunted his emotional and mental growth. I worry that they will find something wrong with my baby boy, and that they’ll hand him over to Special Education before they even give him a chance. I worry that he will grow up as I did, shy and scared of making new friends, trying new things, going new places. I don’t want him to be like that. I want him to be independent, happy, free, and above all, fearless of life and what it throws at you.

I know this is just my random neurotic thoughts, but I can’t help but worry. Hell, we’ll probably get to the school tomorrow and he’ll to me to am-scray.

That would be the best and worst thing to happen.