Last night there was sope making, a salsa show down, laughs, cape cods, chihuahuas holding hands and all of the things that make a Wednesday night special. That is, until it was bedtime.
Bedtime has been exhausting around the Fenavo household lately. So exhausting that I want to be all dramatic and throw myself on the ground and scream “why? why? why?!” (Well, not that dramatic, BUT!)
You see, Ezra is not doing so well with this new school transition. He has made a couple of friends, (Moises and David) and he seems to be liking the freedom and sustainability aspects of walking to school, but when night time rolls around he is a complete and utter mess. Last night he sobbed for hours while I tried talking him down. I shared stories of school transitions and being scared. Of how I understood that being a fourth grader in a school full of eighth graders could be frightening. I told him about how missing old friends was OK sometimes, but this means he is just making room for more new ones. I had to send Michael in after I couldn’t take anymore. Michael sat on the side of his bed and told him that he knew the same pain (“I know you are lonely. I was lonely too in school and it is terrible and it hurts your stomach to think about being there. Your mother and I did not do this to you on purpose. But please believe that it will get better if you make it better.”)
All day today my mind raced wondering if I got an F in the school of parenting. Was it a selfish move to move him out of the school he has been at his entire life because I wanted to buy a house? Will this be a tremendous learning experience for him?
Will it be something that will prep him for change in the future? Either way these night time crying fits make me feel completely inadequate and most of the time I want to cry right along with him. There are moments when I almost blurt out that he can go back to his old school if he can convince me. His old school that was a disorganized cluster fuck that had parents stealing from the PTA. In his eyes, it is the best school in the universe because it is all that he has ever known.
Tonight, Michael and I visited the first PTA meeting of the year at his new school. It was so refreshing to see all of these young parents that had biked there with their children. They had tattoos too! (Something that was unheard of in the suburbs!) There was girls talking about knitting socks and I knew instantly that the right choice had been made. Not because they know about knitting socks, but because Ezra now goes to a school with parents who are like us. I didn’t feel like I had to cover up from head to toe to hide my tattoos or cry because I drive a Beetle or my bike instead of a mini van with seven kids. And the best part of it all? These parents who have tattoos and bike, are also parents who are completely vested in the future of their children!
Change is always tough no matter how extreme the transition is. Everyday, it seems like something new and positive comes Ezra’s way even though sometimes the pessimistic side of him is too proud to accept it.
Tonight, he is fast asleep and it is 8:55pm. There was no crying before bed and that is a huge milestone in itself. For now we will take it a day at a time and hope for the best. In the meantime it’s hard and it hurts to see him in so much pain. ) :
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tagged: parenting
Hang in there, mama. He’ll adjust
My parents moved me between schools right before 2nd grade (I adjusted just fine) and then right before 6th grade (that was not just fine). Not only was it a new school, but an entirely new town where I couldn’t ever see my old friends without a 6 hour car trip.
It sucked hard. But I think you’re handling it the right way. He may not see it now, but a school with caring parents is going to end up being so much better for him than the other way. And if you get a minivan & 6 more kids, I’ll send the homeowners’ association after you. That is strictly forbidden on our block.