School is over, and by all accounts it was a success. My oldest forged new friendships in his new, bigger school, loved the new challenges he encountered, and liked his teacher, too. Little Lady, for the most part, loved her new preschool, save for one pesky boy, who by mid-March, couldn’t stop professing his love for her, which frankly, made her a bit uncomfortable. She managed, though, and finished out the year with joy, ready to start her summer.
But, the one on the right, well, for all his stoicism and sarcasm and declarations of hating school, he cried. Not only did he make a best friend this year, who happens to be a girl, but he (and I) loved his teacher, who was actually a substitute, brought in early in the year after his original teacher left due to personal issues. Talk about happy accidents.
It was weird not to see a kid come bouncing off the bus thrilled to be done with the school for the summer, but it was proof of a successful year, of a teacher who did a great job creating a caring and nurturing classroom. I emailed her later that day and told her how my son was so sad. She told me he wasn’t the only one who cried!
We were lucky, it was a good teacher year. Teachers make a difference. Good schools make a difference.
The other night, my oldest called me back into his room, after I had tucked him in, to talk, as he likes to do. He told me that he was trying to imagine what his life would have been like had we not moved, had he not met all the people who are now his friends, had we not lived in our neighborhood. He told me he never wanted to move again. A promise I couldn’t really make.
His words, though, were music to my ears. My husband and I agonized so much over this move. Well, I agonized, my husband, he’s more of a make a decision and move on kind of guy, but I don’t know if he was ever completely sold on moving. Losing a lot of money on a house to move a few miles away, is a big pill to swallow. But, we moved forward. The first few months were tough. My oldest repeatedly told me he wanted to go back to our old town, and my middle seemed in a constant state of agitation from being unsettled. Naturally, I questioned our move.
As time has passed, though, we’ve all come to realize that this was the right move for our family. Our town is not perfect. There are some crazy competitive people and a lot of money, which I’ve written about before, but I’ll take the competitiveness for the good schools, and let’s face it, there are crazy people everywhere, you just pick which type of crazy you can handle.
Times are a changing.