I’ve got Savannah on the brain. She started her new school this morning complete with a new uniform, lunch box, and a stomach full of nerves.
When we pulled into the parking lot Savannah let out one of those nervous stretches. You know the kind. It’s shaky and tight and you take in a deep breath and let it out in a last effort to get out the butterflies, but it just pumps the adrenaline more.
I told her we could sit in the car for a little bit, so we sat together listening to her new Camp Rock 2 CD until she said, “Okay. Let’s go. Now.”
It was toward the end of first period before we had her registered and a class schedule worked out. I was fine with the delay because it gave me some extra time before I sent her out into the great unknown. She’s going from a school of 300 to a school of 1000. BIG change for my timid girl.
An eighth grader gave us a tour of the huge school…that is until it was time for second period to start. Then she took off leaving Savannah and I staring at each other.
“Well, I guess I should go,” Savannah said trying to look confident. Then a scared look came across her face, but just briefly. I laid my hand her arm, “You’re going to have a great day.”
She nodded and walked toward her class, shoulders back, and head held high.
I wanted to reach out and cling to her. I wanted to take her back home and fill in for her until the school day became routine and I had landed a friend or two, then she could drop back in and take over for the rest of the year.
I stood in the hallway and watched her walk away until I couldn’t see her red curls anymore. Then I turned and cried as if I had just dropped off my five year old for her first day in kindergarten.
I am the epitome of an overprotective mom. I admit it. Maybe it’s because I remember what it’s like to be awkward and eleven. Or how it feels to be shy and have to start a new school without knowing anyone. I attended five different schools in six years, and each time I was terrified.
I’ve been watching the clock all day.
Savannah’s in choir now. That will be a nice break in her day.
Oh God. This is probably her lunch time. I hope she finds a place to sit.
She’s in her last class right now and I’m counting down the minutes until I can give her a big hug and hear how her day went.
I hope it was good.
I’ll keep you posted.