Monday I will send my kid off to spend the day in a colorful classroom with warm teachers and friendly children. What a death-trap. This is our first experience with kindergarten. I’m eating a lot of cookies and worrying about the size of his book bag and whether he’ll remember his lunch box. Will he make friends? Will he feel special? Will he bring home a hussy – wait that’s a worry for college. 
It’s weird. I’m not worried about missing the baby son I had. Sure, I miss his chubby face and the way he called blueberries “boo-bases.” But I’ve got pictures. Really. I love seeing my kids grow, become more independent, develop socially and intellectually. Plus, I like going to the bathroom by myself and not having to pack an entire baby store in the car every time we have a night away. And sippy cups are the actual worst.
I am worried about his feelings, his spirit. I’m worried about all these kids at school. Is my kid’s bag big enough? Damn it. Do the other kids even have bags? Are they going to have breakfast? Is someone wishing them a happy day and kisses and hugs and see you when you get homes? I remember being in the first grade, in the lunch line next to a girl who didn’t have lunch and hadn’t brushed her teeth and her clothes were dirty. Oh, MERCY. There was a woman who said to my mother as a child, “if I’ve got a biscuit, you’ve got half a biscuit.” I can only hope that that kind of compassion will be shown to these kids and that it can be catching and if one person can show some love, maybe it will spread. Like the norovirus or lice. 
The most important lesson my mother ever taught me was to be nice to everyone because you never know what someone is going through. “Be nice to someone today,” she would say. So, I’ll say that on Monday right after kisses and hugs and see you when you get homes and right before I remind him to share his biscuits.