On Thursday, September 4, 2008, my son started his first day of school, preschool that is. He is only 3 years old (just turned 3 in July). I was really against starting him so early and I still am...kinda. The real only reason I agreed is he needs special therapy for his speech and language development. He has been getting speech therapy since he was 2 and our funding stopped when he turned 3. So if we wanted him to continue, we would have to pay out of pocket or get him enrolled in the public school system where he would receive therapy in class. So the latter won out.
I didn't think this day would come this early! I was even thinking about homeschooling him when he turned 5. It's not like he doesn't have anyone to watch him during the day because my parents live with us at the moment and I only work part time. But I did have a baby just 3 months ago and it is a nice break for those 3 hours he is away. It gives him structure, socialization with kids his own age, and of course an education.
But I miss him terribly even if it is just a few hours a day. I think because the decision to start him in school was made so suddenly. I didn't have time to mentally prepare myself but that probably wouldn't have made it easier. How is it he is already in school? It feels like yesterday when he was just a baby. Now he is a little boy.
For some reason, I feel like I'm missing out on his "growing up." I want to be with him all the time and teach him all he needs to know and protect him. Just today I got a scary phone call from the nurse at my son's school asking me to pick him up. He had fallen and got a pretty good cut above his eye. Of course, the worse goes through your mind those first few seconds. But thank God he's fine. He didn't even need stitches. Just a cleanup, bandaid and lots of comforting and hugs.
I feel guilty at times thinking about how I didn't enjoy him enough when he was younger, when he was a baby. I resented how he changed my life, how he took away my "freedom", how my life was so carefree before he came. Sometimes I feel this is the reason he was colic, why he has such speech difficulties, why he has health issues (asthma and allergies) and sleeping issues. Don't ask me why!
Sometimes I want to pull him out all together. I feel like he's growing up too fast. He has a lot of school left in his life, why start so early? My husband doesn't feel the same maybe because he's a teacher and has that point of view. He says I baby him too much but what's wrong with that? He is only 3!
I'm cursed with forever worrying about him not because I'm a mom but because I think of what happened to my brother. He passed away at the young age of 14 in an accident while he was with some relatives on vacation. So maybe this is why I'm so overprotective? Why I fear the worst? Why I'm such a worry wart? And why this is so hard? I struggle with letting him go in the morning and feel relief when he comes back home.
My question is does it get any easier? It's been about a month, and I still feel the same...
