I registered my kiddo for school this morning. It’s a major milestone sort of moment at yonder Hoffman Haus.
New school.
New grade.
New Teachers.
Kiddo is not too happy about the situation. Like me, he’s a perfectionist, and the unknown is scary. He’s worried he won’t be able to get his locker open. He’s unsure of the layout of the new school. I hate to say it, but I saw a LOT of me in his sour grapes attitude, too much of me actually. He was frustrated and cranky. In his mind, all the other kids knew more than he did. I kept pointing out the purpose of registration/orientation day: it’s a day for parents and kids to walk through the class schedule together. I pointed out the other kids who were having trouble with their lockers, other kids (and parents) who looked equally overwhelmed by the experience. Unfortunately, he couldn’t see that he wasn’t alone in this mess, even when one of the teachers tried to explain to him that there will be LOTS of teachers on hand to help with lockers and such once the school year starts. I think he still felt like he was going to be all alone in this new adventure.
I started to think about his reaction, so similar to my own. It’s easy to get caught up in the feeling of being all alone, of feeling like no one else has gone through the same experience. How many times have I felt like all the other moms had a better set of instructions to pass on to their offspring? How many times have I felt like I wasn’t given the same set of skills as the rest of the mothers out there? And yet I can’t see myself as behaving irrationally. I think I’m perfectly justified in my rants!
Sometimes, you really NEED someone else to hold up a mirror in order to see yourself more clearly.
JULI HOFFMAN 