‘Big school’ signals a passage of time for kids

By Dr. Heather Bozant Witcher
Young Adults, Clarion Herald

We enrolled our twins in kindergarten this week. It seems the end of an era.

They turn 5 at the tail end of summer – a mere nine days before the start of school. Back and forth, like a slow game of chess, we turned the problem round in our heads.

Kindergarten isn’t a requirement in the state of Alabama, so we could let them gain more confidence and enroll next year. Or, we could start them even if they will be among the youngest in their class – and see how it goes. They can always repeat if they’re not ready.

It’s the uncertainty that kills you. The desire to do the best for your child and the constant questioning of whether you are, in fact, doing it “right.” The endless imagining of scenarios. The anxiety. And then, we pulled the trigger and clicked accept.

Of course, there’s a sense of relief – the decision is made and small glimmers of excitement, a new chance for them to shine, to grow, to develop.

So, when my oldest popped out of bed the next morning at the first sign of the green nightlight and ran straight into my arms screaming, “huggies!” I wasn’t fully prepared for the lump in my throat. Was it my imagination or had he grown taller? His small, monkey-like body wrapped into mine as we cuddled on the rocker, the same place where I had nursed him.

There will always be small mementos and moments like this, juxtaposing past and present. That’s the beauty of parenthood and childhood. The ever-changing phases and swift passage of time.

When I told a colleague at work that we had finally made a decision, she smiled. Her kids are all grown, and she’s in the grandparent phase. She said that stepping into kindergarten is the first real moment when she can track the passage of time. Blink and the next grade appears. Blink again, and it’s time for high school. Blink again and college, and the next thing you know, you’re preparing for a wedding.

But, I promise myself that while I can’t slow the blinking of time, I can savor it. I can remember these early morning snuggles. The excitement, mixed in with the sleepiness of a 6 a.m. wakeup, the questioning of how many days until another home day, and the eventual collapse of a small body into my arms as we rock our way into wakefulness.

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