Of all the things that can catch you unprepared in fatherhood, nothing quite matches the first day of school. It can be such a zoo. I'm not just talking about the insanity of an elementary school parking lot, peppered with ill-behaved parents in possession surprisingly little shame nor any self-awareness to speak of. That qualifies as organized chaos compared to those first few mornings of your child going to school.
It may seem routine to us as we look back at our school years, thinking on how we always arrived at school, ready for lessons; dressed and showered, and in possession of tools for learning. A lot of things are simple and easy with the benefit of hindsight. Having been raised by a single father, we were always expected to fend for ourselves. Nobody took care of anything for us. If we did not accomplish a necessary task prior to school, it remained undone. The very thought of having a mother to take care of us was incredibly foreign.
It may seem routine to us as we look back at our school years, thinking on how we always arrived at school, ready for lessons; dressed and showered, and in possession of tools for learning. A lot of things are simple and easy with the benefit of hindsight. Having been raised by a single father, we were always expected to fend for ourselves. Nobody took care of anything for us. If we did not accomplish a necessary task prior to school, it remained undone. The very thought of having a mother to take care of us was incredibly foreign.
I cannot fully express how grateful I was to have my wife by my side on the first day of school, and pretty much every school day after that — words feel so inadequate. I had no clue what I was doing (and largely still do not). In stark contrast to me was my wife: bustling from room to room, delegating tasks, and holding it all together. The only thing I could do was adult things like shower and make coffee and warm up the car.
Thankfully, my wife had planned for everything. School clothes were washed and ready days in advance, as were the school bags. Lunches were no problem for her as she had prepared them the night before. I'd love to tell you every tiny detail she was responsible for, but I am unable to because I honestly do not know them. That morning, we were a well oiled machine despite this being our maiden voyage, and it was all thanks to her.
What makes this even more remarkable is the fact that none of us are morning people. As much as I admire Ben Franklin, I do not believe in rising with the sun. Unfortunately, my children also share this difference of opinion with Ben Franklin, which can be problematic when you have a schedule to keep. I've discussed The Magic of Motivation and the wand that is music in our household in a previous post, but prior to that discovery, we had some growing pains.
One morning, when my son was five, his mother tried to motivate him with reverse psychology in the form of an empty threat:
"You either get dressed or you can go to school in your underwear," she warned him.
"No no no no!" He exclaimed. "Those are not my choices! Those are my LAST choices!"
Of course they are.
