Today marked a significant milestone as I sent my youngest child, Jamie, off to kindergarten. I had anticipated feeling ecstatic about this new chapter, especially since Jamie is my “active” child. My days with him consist of constant vigilance, as I find myself redirecting his energy to avoid potential mishaps. By day’s end, I’m often drained and close to tears. The prospect of having a few hours to myself seemed like a dream. I could finally enjoy simple activities with my daughter, like visiting the museum or taking a peaceful stroll, without the constant anxiety of watching for disasters.
Last night, as I helped Jamie into his pajamas, he bombarded me with the typical inquiries of a child about to embark on their educational journey.
“Will I have to take my school supplies home every day?”
“No, sweetheart. They’ll stay at school.”
“But what if I have homework?”
“You’ll bring home what needs to be done, and we have everything else you need here.”
“What if I have to cut some paper?”
“We have scissors at home, darling.”
“Where?”
“I’ll show you when we need them.”
“What if my teacher yells at me?”
“Why would she do that?”
“Because I’m bad. I’m always bad. What if she hates me?”
His words took me by surprise. I had never perceived Jamie as a “bad kid.” Sure, he often needed reminders about household rules and sometimes spent more time in his room than his siblings. He reflects on why we can’t throw toys across the yard or leave the sink running until it leaks. And yes, there are moments when he feels overwhelmed, such as when his favorite contestant on a show doesn’t win.
Despite our efforts to reinforce positive behavior—rewarding him with stickers and expressing our love—he still views himself as “bad.” Hearing him say this shattered my heart. Jamie, with his bright blue eyes and gentle nature, is so much more than his struggles. He is the boy who covers his little sister with a blanket when she dozes off during a movie, the one who cheers for his older brother with enthusiasm, and the child who sings along to his favorite songs when he thinks no one is watching. Yet, he fears rejection from a teacher he has yet to meet.
As he confidently approached the towering school doors, I felt tears welling up in my eyes. In that moment, he blended into the crowd of children, his oversized backpack adding to his small stature, and he didn’t look back. My brave boy was stepping into a new world—one that I hope will recognize his kind spirit.
As I returned to my car, tears streamed down my face. “What’s wrong, Mommy?” my daughter asked. Struggling to find the words, I replied, “I’m just going to miss him so much.” She looked at me with understanding and said, “I know, Mommy. He’s my best boy. I will really miss my good boy.”
I hope the world sees Jamie as we do.
For parents seeking to navigate similar journeys, resources such as ACOG’s guide on treating infertility provide valuable information, while Make a Mom’s home insemination kits are helpful for those considering self insemination. For more authority on this topic, Cryobaby’s home insemination kit offers insights into the process.
In summary, sending a child with ADHD to kindergarten can be an emotional experience filled with hopes and fears. Understanding their perspective and supporting them through this transition is crucial.
Keyphrase: Supporting a Child with ADHD in Kindergarten
Tags: [“home insemination kit” “home insemination syringe” “self insemination”]