When we lived in the states, I worked for the first two years of my son's life. While my husband and I were at work, my son went to daycare. The first time we dropped off my little three month old baby, I bawled. It was hard enough going back to work when my husband was at home taking care of our son. But handing him off to strangers was practically traumatic... for me. My son loved his daycare from pretty much the beginning (at first he refused to sleep, but as soon as I sent a blanket that smelled like home, instead of a freshly washed blanket, he was soothed and slept peacefully).
Over the four years that he attended his daycare, he developed friendships and bonds that are still strong since we have moved to Japan. When we visited the US last month, we made a special stop to visit his school. When his teacher for the last two years at his daycare saw him, they screamed and ran into each other's arms. I choked up. I knew how much he loved his beloved daycare, which we always called school.
So, when it came to starting kindergarten, I thought I was ready. My son and I had already gone through the drop off routine. This was going to be a piece of cake.
This morning, my son woke up with enthusiasm. He happily ate a large breakfast of yogurt, cheesy-stew bread, and half of an apple with peanut butter. He then got dressed and brushed his teeth. We had enough time to read one of his favorite picture books, "The Best Sweater" by Lynne Garner. At 8:45, we headed out the door with his backpack and book bag. We rode my bike since I had a couple errands to run after dropping him off.
As we pulled up to the school, there was a long line of other mom's bikes. Parents either walk their kids or bike them to school each morning. We were greeted by two of the moms from the park, as they were dropping off their kids as well. I held my son's hand as we walked up to the gate. The principal and vice principal were standing at the gate, greeting kids and pairing the new kids with a second year student. Without much fanfare, my son was whisked away from me towards his classroom (I assume to distract him from the drop off emotions).
I breathed a sigh of relief. I was going to make it through this transition without shedding a tear. But then I hear a shriek and saw my son tearing through the playground towards me. His wavering voice shouting "I didn't get a hug and a kiss goodbye!"
I bent down and scooped him up in my arms, giving him the desired hug and kiss. And at that moment, I lost it. My tears could not be held in and a squeezed him a bit tighter as I let a few drops release from my eyes.
The vice principal looked a bit shocked. Japanese parents typically don't tell their children (especially those that are school age) that they love them or give them physical affection. It has been a topic of discussion several times at the park of how affectionate my son is with me and I with him. A few moms have even told me that they now hug and kiss their kids goodnight and tell them that they love them.
After a few moments, the vice principal took my son out of my arms and directed him towards his classroom. He happily ran off, ready to join his class. I turned around with tears still in my eyes. I quickly wiped them away, but not before the park moms saw them. I was caught. Some gentle chiding ensued, mostly to help me move on.
I climbed on my bike and headed off to get everything done in the two hours that he would be in school. As I pedaled away, I smiled knowing that my little sweetheart still needed me, even if he wasn't so little anymore.
No comments:
Post a Comment