Wednesday, 12 September 2012
This is a syndicated post from Moments With Mandi, the blog by Momaroo's editor.
My little 7 year old broke my heart this morning. We’re all at the start of getting colds (oh what fun!), so I know he wasn’t feeling 100% as we walked to school. He was quiet, which really isn’t the norm. As we got up to the front of the school building, he didn’t really say goodbye or “I’ll see you later.” I shrugged it off since we were right in the middle of a crowd of students getting off a school bus. As he walked up towards the steps, I flipped the stroller around to head back home.
I always wait, right there on the sidewalk, to make sure he goes in. He’s strong enough to open the doors, but there’s always that little part of me that wonders. So I wait. I encouraged Gavin to say bye, and we watched as big brother climbed the steps.
At the top I noticed my sweet boy was crying. The crowd of students rushing in was now a blur. My baby, two weeks in to the school year. I called out for him, and motioned for him to come over.
As I did, a girl older than him (between 2nd and 5th grade, 5th is the highest grade at this school) put her hand on his shoulder as he walked down the stairs towards me. My heart.
They walked over to me and I knelt down to be at his level to see what was wrong. He wrapped his arms around me and continued to cry.
I was able to calm him down just enough so that you could tell me would miss me. I hugged him, not wanting to let go. Part of me wanted to scoop him up, all 7 years old and 40some pounds, and carry my baby home.
I don’t know what was wrong. Was it him not feeling well? Did he not want to go to school because he truly would miss me?
Read the rest at Moments With Mandi!