Good Riddance September... I'm NOT Sorry to See You Go

This has been one of my most difficult months as a mother. It should have been one of my happiest, because I’ve been waiting so long for it – both boys in school and finally some time to myself. I was free! No longer tethered to their schedules, needs and wants for SEVEN hours each day!

We sent Baby Boy to kindergarten on the big yellow bus. He was all smiles and excitement. I was all smiles and excitement. About a week into the school year I started getting reports about his behavior. He was acting out, not listening, not following directions, being disruptive. Reports from his bus driver. Reports from his teacher. My smiles and excitement started to fade.

Two weeks into the school year, he was sent to the principal’s office for his behavior. I was mortified. My sweet, loving child was being sent to the principal’s office… he was going to be LABELED as “THE BAD KID”. His work was regressing. He was starting to write his letters backwards and starting to scribble again.

Hubs and I had some serious conversations about what to do. I hated the fact that my baby was bringing home yellows and a RED from a teacher who I had a wonderful relationship with. She knew how I parented. She knew that yellows, and especially reds, were not acceptable in my house. No matter how much we tried talking to, encouraging and punishing him, things were not getting better. They were getting worse.

We decided, along with his teacher and principal, to pull him out of kindergarten. I couldn’t stop crying the day we made the final decision. He wasn’t going to attend kindergarten anymore. I was terrified that his little heart was going to break. That he wouldn’t understand we were doing this for him, not against him. Doing this so he would do better, not because he wasn’t doing well now.

The scramble began. He still needed to attend school, just not public kindergarten. We looked at private schools, half-day schools, daycare centers. Anything and everything that had a space for a five year old who needed one more year to develop and mature before going into public kindergarten. He was in a crack and I didn’t want him to fall through.

We went to seven different schools to find the right one. I didn’t like most of them. I only loved one; the one that said they would work with him and his individual strengths and weaknesses. They recognized that he was straddling the years and would do one-on-one, focused work with him to bring him up to speed. All the others just showed me what classroom he would enter and what lessons he would have to adapt to.

So I fought for the school I wanted him to attend. The school that saw him as a whole child. The school that could give him a chance. The school that costs a helluva lot of money to attend. The school that is stretching our budget farther than it can be stretched. The school that his entire family is helping him attend. The school that we are sacrificing for.

And is it worth it? Damn straight it is! I will go out and find a full-time job if he needs to continue in the private school sector. If we put him in public kindergarten next year and find out that he is not thriving, we will do it again. I will pull him and sacrifice so that he succeeds. Isn’t that what parents are supposed to do? I want him to know his strengths and not be labeled because he doesn’t fit into the prescribed box of how to succeed in school today.

He has been attending the new school for a week and loves it. He comes home happy and excited about his day. He’s thriving and I’m excited to see what the next year has in store for him. Now I’m able to breathe again and finally enjoy the time my children are in school; trusting that they are both where they should be and enjoying their time.

I thought that when they were both in school I would have an opportunity to enjoy life as it was before having kids. Now I know that will never happen. I won’t ever go back to what life was like before kids. My life has changed and my priorities have too. It took something happening to my child to make me realize it. My heart walks around outside my body and those two little boys are what matters most to me. I will do whatever I can to make sure they have the opportunity to thrive and survive in this life.

Goodbye September. I’m not sad to see you go.

Alisa is the mother of two high spirited, and overly rambunctious young boys and the wife of a military man. She can often be found hiding behind the pages of a book, watching reality TV, or figuring out how to fit in triathlon training in between all other life activities. She blogs at Giraffe Tales. You can also find her on Facebook and Twitter