I double triple quadruple checked the papers, cross referencing what I was holding with the list the school had mailed weeks ago.
Immunization form? Yes
Proof of residency? Yes
Birth certificate? Wait, where is it??? Oh here it is. Yes.
Social Security Number? Yes
I carefully stacked and re-stacked the forms, bundling them together with a large paper clip (no, that didn’t work), a manila folder (what if something falls out?), and finally decided to put the forms (rechecked again) (and once more) into a large clear plastic bag.
No, I’m not bringing my camera to take pictures. It’s ONLY Kindergarten Roundup. Eye rolls and exasperation and missing patience, their presence and absence noted.
We drove separately so he could go straight to work afterwards. I wished he would drive so that I could just ride and look out the window and recheck the forms a time or two before we got to school. I pulled into the wrong parking lot and decided it was a sign that this was a terrible school since they didn’t have proper signage. I did a three point turn with middle schoolers watching (gah!) because I had really, really pulled into the wrong parking lot and then when I finally found the right parking lot I passed no less than ten empty parking spaces. I know this because when I finally did park and meet Tate at the front door of the school, he pointed out all the open spaces. See? That one, that one, that one, and that one?
I kind of wanted to punch him in the nose and run away with the children back to the car and drive home as fast as the car would carry us, lock the doors and close the blinds, and hold Carson in my arms.
But we went inside the school. Carson pretended to be invisible behind Tate’s legs and I pretended to be very busy holding Ella’s hand and being the keeper of the forms and not someone of the verge crying.
I felt like the star pupil when the Assistant Principal checked my forms and they were all in order! So maybe the school wasn’t so bad, poor signage not withstanding. The teachers were all smiling and the parents all look terrified, just like me, and Carson still hid even further behind Tate’s legs. There were more forms to fill out. Occupation, Mother’s maiden name (my maiden name, not my mother‘s maiden name because *I* am the parent now), emergency contacts, preferred hospital. And all they want is my first born child. For Kindergarten.
Carson got a 94 on his mini-evaluation, needs to work on why questions and fine motor skills, we’ll work on those over the summer we promised. What a relief, silly really, as if we didn’t already know he was smart.
He never cried and I didn’t cry either (on the outside), so we headed to the donut shop to celebrate.