Tomorrow morning I’ll hold Sweet Pea’s hand as he starts his first day of school. He’s beginning 4K at Avondale Elementary and, along with several of his sweet little friends, the inevitable journey of growing up (and out of Mama’s arms) will begin.
I’m taking a moment to figure this all out..
What an incredible milestone. I’m afraid of letting it pass without some sort of noteworthy commencement. Perhaps I’ll make cookies, as that typically indicates “celebration” in our house. Or, maybe I’ll make it easy on myself and I’ll go snag a stash from Steel City Pops. Even better.
Sweet Pea, standing outside McWane Center, downtown Birmingham, just weeks after we moved to Birmingham, only 18th months old.
Here we are. Our oldest son is turning a new corner. And not because it is natural for him to do so, but because his father and I have willed it to fruition. At the sound of the first bell, our four-year old will quickly assume an incredibly complex and extraordinary situation. We’ve chosen for him the very opposite of what everyone told us we must. (Family, friends, neighbors, absolute strangers – they all seem to have the same opinion. We don’t listen much, as we are of the belief that sending our children to our neighborhood school *is* a good idea.) It’s been almost three years of thinking and touring and praying and talking and considering, and the time has come - we’re offering our bright, curious, headstrong child to the Birmingham City School system. And we’re taking it one day at a time…
What’s so interesting to me is how quickly Sweet Pea has adjusted to all life’s milestones thus far. He does not flinch when new people enter a room. He shows great care in making sure the world around him is safe, happy, and beautiful. No doubt he’ll walk right in to his new school tomorrow and never look back. But I’ll be there, holding sight of him until he disappears in to his classroom and is safely surrounded by books and bulletin boards. And even as he is absorbed in to his new routine of each school day, I will be there, waiting, praying, loving him and wishing for every bit of joy and happiness to find his growing heart. I’ll be waiting breathlessly to pick him up at the end of the day, to hear all about everything he’s learned and seen and heard and felt.
{“Embrace the unknown.” It’s what I keep telling myself.}
I believe that a great education is possible, right here, in Birmingham. And I have to trust that this (public) school (and its staff) will be exactly what our child needs, that it will positively augment what we’re already doing at home. I have to find rest in the decision we’ve made as parents, to expose him to the beautiful bruises of this city, so that he can better understand the world we live in.
I’m proud of that decision. I’m proud of my son. And I’m proud of the city where we are raising him, educating him, nurturing him. This is a magical moment for our family, and I won’t let it fade without saying so.
I hope everyone’s “First Day” is magical, too, and I challenge us all to commit to a year of loving on not only the children we care for in our home, but also those that are in need of care throughout our community. They all constitute our future. And they deserve nothing less.
Here’s to turning a critical point in a most fascinating process…
