Yesterday was a very momentous day. One that I just had to write about, even though I told myself that I was going to cut back on the Jelly Goes to School Drama.
For the first time in 9 days, Jelly did NOT cry when it was time to go to school!!! The first week, she did just fine. But, that changed once she realized that kindergarten wasn't all coloring and playing games.
Since Monday of last week, I have had tears from her EVERY single day because she didn't want to go to school... but yesterday? NONE.. NADA.. ZILCH.
And you know what it was that made the difference or should I say, who it was? Yep. My principal.
It wasn't Momma, or Peanut, or just deciding to wake up and make the decision that she wasn't going to cry anymore. It was the intervention my principal had done the day before. Just like that. All this time I've been struggling and starting my day on the verge of tears because I had to put my heartbroken Jelly on a school bus while she cried...and all it took was one morning of my principal stepping in and taking over for me.
I told you all yesterday how upset I'd been when the principal had sent Peanut away when I'd asked her to stand with Jelly while I did car duty. I told you all that my principal had told me why she did it. I told you all that the first thing Jelly told me when she got off the school bus that same day was all about the the fact that the principal had hugged her and talked to her and had made her feel very special.
I've just decided I don't like calling her "principal" anymore... from now on, I'm going to refer to her as Mrs. P (for principal, duh!).
Anywho, the first thing out of Jelly's mouth yesterday morning when I woke her up was "Momma, can I go to Mrs. P's office this morning and just wait there for the bus?"
With a few flicks of my fingers, I sent a text to Mrs. P asking her...and she responded that Jelly could go to her office that morning.
I should point out here that Mrs. P has a son that rides the same bus with Jelly to school each morning. They have become pretty good friends, and Jelly liked the idea of waiting with him and going outside when he went outside...as long as they were waiting in Mrs. P's office to do so.
I got excited about the fact that Jelly was already showing signs of growth with her request, but I stayed cautious to the fact that once we did get to school she could very well change her mind...and the tears would quickly start to flow.
But luckily, that didn't happen.
The minute we arrived at school, Jelly wanted to know if Mrs. P was there. She wasn't. So we took all of my things down to my classroom, and then Jelly asked if we could go and wait for Mrs. P by her office. I told her we'd wait a few minutes and then head down there. I couldn't believe how excited Jelly was. No signs of backing out, or getting nervous, or suddenly realizing that going to Mrs. P's office would mean I wouldn't be there with her.
When Mrs. P did arrive, I took her in to the office, she kissed me goodbye, and that was that. I left. No tears. No hanging on for dear life refusing to let go. A simple goodbye and she went straight in and sat down next to Mrs. P's son.
I was dumbfounded. Shocked. And ecstatic!
All this time, I've been trying to think of something that would make Jelly's transition easier. I knew that once she got to school, she was fine... but it was that darned goodbye situation that got her every morning. I was basically at my wit's end. Besides just dumping her off at the door and running away before she had a chance to catch me - I just didn't know what I was going to do.
And Mrs. P was able to fix my problem in a matter of one day.
Jelly has always thought it was super cool when Mrs. P would talk to her. In Jelly's mind, a principal is a very important and almost famous person. I remember one of the first times Mrs. P did talk to her - last year, when Jelly would come back to the school after daycare. When Peanut came back from practice that day, she recounted her super special encounter with Mrs. P like she'd just met the queen! And, now it's so obvious that the one person who could make Jelly feel better about going off to school each morning is that same person who makes her feel super special with a simple "Hi Jelly! How was your day?"
Last night, I sat in Jelly's bed with her and read her three books. When I kissed her goodnight, she asked me if she was going to go to Mrs. P's office again this morning. I told her she would. She smiled, told me she loved me, and just as I walked out the door she said "Momma, I think I like going to school now."
*Insert celebratory music and crying (from me)!*
I took the opportunity yesterday morning, once school had started, to thank Mrs. P. She thinks it's no big deal. I don't think she realizes how much she has done for me. How much suffering she has taken away from me...or my baby. What I'm sure she considers a minor gesture on her part has completely transformed my Jelly's outlook on school.
She's basically handed me my happiness back. And I honestly think she has no idea.
I hope that she, at some point, stumbles across this post. I hope she's able to read this and really realize how amazing she is. And the gratitude I have. Because just saying "thank you" doesn't cut it. I owe her so much. Seeing my baby cry each and every morning was like daggers to my heart. I had honestly started to think that Jelly would spend her entire school year sad, and scared, and stressed to the max. OK, so maybe that's a little exaggeration...I know that, over time... Jelly would have probably gotten used it it. But, having no idea when that time would come caused me the same sadness, fear, and stress.
And it appears that I might not have to worry about that anymore. And that's a gift that has no monetary value, it's just priceless.
Jelly and my lives (each morning) are now different. Better. Happy. All thanks to Mrs. P and taking just a few minutes to show how much she cares. And while Mrs. P will probably go about her days being none the wiser, she is a rockstar in my household.
My Jelly is finally happy. And that feels like the two ton weight that has been resting on my shoulder has finally been lifted.
Waiting nine days to say that has felt like an eternity. And now, all is good in the world.
Thanks, Mrs. P. Hopefully one day, you'll know the impact you had on my family this week...and that I will forever be in your debt for it.