School Days

Dear Jon:

Three weeks ago, you started your third year of preschool. This marks the two years since I started to write these letters to you. What a huge change these two years have been for you—and for all of us. Your first year of preschool, ‘the Koala,’ though not as dramatic or traumatic as for some children, was not easy for you. You seemed happy during the day (we peaked in on you during our volunteer hours at the school), you were never fond of letting go of us in the mornings. Your coping technique, which you came up with by yourself, was to either pretend to be something else (“Mommy, tell Ms. Susan I am a sword fish today”) or to pretend not to be there at all (you would cover your head with a swaddling blanket and pretend to be ‘hiding’). Your teachers were Ms. Susan and Ms. Adrienne, and while you liked Ms. Adrienne, a soft-spoken, sweet young woman, you were not as comfortable with Ms. Susan, who had more of a no-nonsense approach.

So your second year of school, I was more cautious, more worried about how you would do. And quite possibly it was the happiest school year for you ever. You were a Butterfly, and your teacher was Ms. Jennifer. Jon, I know you will probably forget her years from now, but I hope at least your subconscious retains some of the fuzzy warm feelings from your year with Ms. Jennifer. You loved her—and she loved you. She would tell stories of you to other teachers, so when Daddy or I would volunteer at the school, we’d hear, “Oh, you are Jon’s mom/dad—Ms. Jennifer told us what a sweet boy he is.” We could not be more proud of you. You truly blossomed in school that year—socially, emotionally and academically. You had a small class—just 10 of you—and it was such a tightly knit group, especially after Emmannuel, a classmate who had a few developmental issues that were disruptive to the group, moved away. You got along so well with everyone. You fell in love with two girls in your class—Katie and Laurie. You learned your letters and how to write your name. You brought home millions of ‘projects.’ You were a star. When summer came, you asked about your school friends daily and you missed them a lot.

When fall came, I found myself both nervous and excited about the coming school year. I knew it was unrealistic to expect that you can have another stellar year like the one you had with Ms. Jennifer. But I was also excited for you see your friends and get back into the routine of school. And so far, it looks like I had nothing to worry about.

This year, you are a Penguin, with Ms. Renee and Ms. Komal. Several of your friends from the Butterfly class are also Penguins—Thor, Laurie and Brianna. You already made several new friends—you say that Alex is your best friend in school, and you were pleased that Caroline likes to play with you. You like your teachers, and you seem genuinely happy to be there. Ms. Renee tells me you are a sweetheart, and Mr. Will, the music teacher, mentioned to me today what a great listener you always are. You are always engaged, and I think this is perhaps the biggest difference from the first year. While you were never shy, the first year you simply didn’t seem as engaged, you kept to yourself a lot. Perhaps it was the age. Perhaps it was the comfort level. Now, you are always in the middle of activity. You are clearly a leader, but not a stubborn, ‘my way or the highway’ kind, like you sometimes are with your other friends (Maitri, Kristin or Sky). School has been great for you, my boy, and I could not be more proud of you.

Love,
Your proud mama