When I Woke Up

At thirty years old I walked my son into kindergarten orientation. He was a fresh, adorable five-year-old with a big smile and absolute self-confidence. He let me gel his hair that day. He'd picked out a lunch box, and I don't remember what it was.

Round tables were set up in the gym of his school. We picked a seat near the middle, because I wanted us to appear friendly and open to meeting new friends. Joey tried to sit on my lap, but I made him take his own seat. He looked around, that grin never leaving his face. He was happy just to be there. A great big kindergartener.

I hushed the voice in my head that wanted to scream, "Please! Please, please love my child. He is creative and funny and caring...and also, he's terribly sensitive, and if eats Cheez-Its on a hot day he might throw up. And call me if you need anything! I'm still trying to master teleportation but I'll get here lickety-split!"

I watched other moms walk their children in. You can tell the difference between the first-timers and the more-experienced parents. Some let their children run away from them, too far ahead to possibly catch. Their faces showed no apprehension, their mouths were relaxed into smiles as they called, "Hello!" to other calm parents.

I was the youngest one, and I felt like everyone knew it. I was sure I had an aura visible to all of the other adults in the room that said, "She doesn't know what she's doing."

But my Joey sat beside me, his feet swinging in the too-large chair. Every time his gaze fell on me that smile widened, his eyes lit up, and he said, "I can't believe I'm in kindergarten!"

He believed, unfailingly, that I knew exactly what I was doing. My perfect boy.

I went to bed that night, my heart racing. A broken record played in my head: "Please! Please, please love my child. He is creative and funny and caring...."

When I woke up the very next morning, I heard him down the hall. I called out, "Joey! Joey?"

And this emerged from his bedroom:

Just like that.

Today I took him to his eighth grade orientation at the very same school. Some of the students from his kindergarten class have left and moved on, other kids joined his group in later years. To see him sitting at the table today with those other gigantic boys...are they MEN? dear GAWD...slouched down in the chair with his feet sprawled across the floor, all of them laughing at some goofy thing. There were a few remember-whens from them, and my heart did a somersault.

What happened? How did I kiss a five-year-old goodnight and wake up to an eighth grader?