
This was the only time Isaac would actually look at me before we left, and it was brief. I guess it was pretty early for him. He did not want his picture taken, but here he is, all ready for his first day of preschool.
I think the day was harder on me than on him. We'd been trying to prepare him, explaining that he would stay at school and Mama would kiss him goodbye and come back for him after lunch. Adam had taken him to the open house three days before so he could get familiar with the room and the toys. I'd meant to arrive 15 minutes early so he could have a longer transition period before I had to go, but it didn't work out that way. Isaac, who normally sleeps until 9 or even 10 am, and I (totally spoiled!) made it just in time for the 8:30 start. I had only a few minutes to talk to his teacher and tell him goodbye.
When it hit him what that meant - I was leaving and he was staying - he started sobbing and saying "Mama, mama..." He ran out into the hallway after me, but he understood that I had to leave him. Our brave little guy, instead of clinging to my leg, ran into a corner and sobbed alone. My heart was breaking, but his teacher scooped him up, hugged him, and quickly took note of my distraction ideas. Then they were gone.
I had to stop by the office to drop off Isaac's forms, so after a few minutes, the director went to check on him. Perfectly happy, she said. The crying had been brief, and all three children were gathered around the teacher and some kind of musical instrument. I know Isaac is such a happy, curious kid, and once he was okay, he would be okay for the rest of the morning. I, on the other hand, came home and moped around the house, unable to do anything but miss him.
When I went to pick him up four hours later, he was busily moving around the room, carrying something to the teacher. She told me later that he'd been a wonderful helper. When he saw me, his face lit up; he said "Mama!" and ran into my arms. Then I asked if he was ready to go home, and he said "No!" What more could I ask?
So I said, "Is there anything you want to show me before we leave?" He then ran through the room, pointing out the play kitchen, the rolling pin, the "castle," while narrating what he'd done. He pulled a tiny chair over to the tiny play sink, climbed up, and showed me how he could wash his hands. Of course, anytime I asked him later that week what he'd done at school, he just said "Isaac cry at school. Isaac wanted Mama."
Isaac was sick the second week, but he went back to school last Tuesday, and there were no more tears. I hugged him goodbye before I put him down, and then he disappeared into his classroom behind the teacher, not looking back. Again I found him busy and happy when I came back for him. Mrs. Barnhart told me how good-natured and happy he is, which is just how we know him to be at home. As for me, the four hours passed so much faster the second time, and I found myself wondering if we should sign up for 2 days a week!
A few days ago, when we were talking about school, Isaac said out of the blue: "I wuv Mrs. Barnhart." And he doesn't really say "I love you" yet, so that means a lot.