Mary Grace starts kindergarten tomorrow.
I spent all night last night having anxious dreams about it.
The school allows parents to come for the first 45 minutes tomorrow (in real life). In my dream, there was this elaborate greeting ritual that involved two differently colored blankets and wrapping them up in a very particular way (I know, it doesn't make any sense). I couldn't get it right. Some dad took me aside and tried to show me, ended up hitting on me in a very creepy inappropriate way*, and I missed her getting off of the bus, anyway.
Then I finally found her right classroom (in the dream - I know where it is IRL. I even know which windows to peek in during the day). I didn't recognize her. She looked like a different kid. She didn't like her name**.
Then it was time for lunch (which is odd, because we got her into the half day program IRL) and as we were walking to the cafeteria I threw a foam take-out container away in an air duct, causing all kinds of havoc for the school janitor. (It looked like a laundry chute in my dream, and if I had been there in the beginning when she got off the bus they would have pointed it out to me, according to Imaginary Janitor. "Where were you? Everyone else knew!") Meanwhile, MG stood next to me shrinking with embarrassment.
Then the very worst part of the nightmare happened.
She asked me to go home.
I don't remember any more of it, thank goodness.
BJ and I were talking about it yesterday, as I was trying not to cry in the playplace at the mall that she has outgrown, about why starting Kindergarten is hard for me. He said, "She's had 3 years of preschool. I think we've done a pretty good job of preparing her for the world."
"I know," I replied, "but what if I forgot something?"
Thanks to the magic of Facebook, I know I'm not the only one who is struggling with this enormous change in our family. My friends are having a Boo Hoo Breakfast at Chick Fil A tomorrow. We'll all get each other through it.
I know it's going to be fine. As I've often said, "Change isn't so bad, it's transition that sucks." And I know that I only have dreams like that because I'm crazy, not because I'm psychic. But my real fears are there in black and white - that she'll get out in the big world and she'll realize that her mom is a huge dork, that I'll embarrass her or let her down, that she won't be proud of the person we've taught her to be once she has a choice, that I've forgotten to teach her something vital and I won't be there to correct it when she's at school... It's all pretty real.
Looks like I picked the wrong month to go off of the Zoloft.
*This is my subconscious telling me to get my wedding ring resized so I can wear it again.
**When we went to meet her teacher last week, she told her teacher that she could call her Mary if she wanted to. HUH?
PS - Happy birthday Gramma!! Call me when you get up!