In the first weeks of school, your child has been a rockstar.
They have faced brand new situations—daily—multiple times a day. New people, new friends, new teachers. New schools, new classrooms, new procedures.
They have remembered a billion things. Which bus to ride. Which room to enter. Which hall to turn down. What their schedule is. Which class is next and what book they need for that class. When to be quiet. Where to sit. How to sit. Where the bathroom was. Where to line up. What the directions were. Thirty or so new names.
They have been quiet for longer than was easy. They sat in a chair for longer than was comfortable. They listened to a whole lot of words and directions. They followed at least most of those directions. They raced to the bathroom between classes. They’ve been hungry while they waited for lunch. They have written more than they are used to. They have read more than they are used to.
Then, at recess, they played hard. They searched for a familiar face and ran quickly to a friend. They explored while finding a new friend. They learned the rules to new games. They climbed monkey bars and got blisters. They ran through pea gravel and got rocks in their shoes and a killer leg workout.
And even the most confident of them were a bit anxious as they did all of these things.
They are trying their absolute best to make a great first impression on their classmates, their teachers, their school.
They probably got up earlier than they are used to. They have probably been fighting the spinning of their own brains before sleeping (maybe even WHILE sleeping) at night.
Anxiety is exhausting. Remembering all the things is exhausting. Working to be good all day is exhausting.
And your child is trying SO HARD to overcome all of that and have a bit of fun too.
Sometimes we forget . . . they are so, so tired. Every single one of them.
And when they get home to you? Well, they are probably a whole spinning top of emotions—a little excited and chatty. A little “leave me alone and don’t ask me to talk about it.” A little “let’s play a game and drag out all the things.” A little “please let me stare at this TV or tablet screen and zone out.” A little hungry, but a little “nothing sounds good.” You know, exhausted.
So, because they are too tired to tell you . . . thank you.
Thank you for handling their exhausted selves.
For not raising your voice too much because you know they are just plain worn out.
For letting them rest and rejuvenate.
For offering dinner choices and delivering food to them.
For allowing them some quiet time, and then some attention.
For asking them how school was and for backing off when they aren’t ready to talk.
For getting them to bed a little earlier and dragging them out of bed in the morning because it still wasn’t enough sleep.
For driving them to all the things and letting them zone out on the way.
Thank you for being their safe place where they can let out the emotions that may have been bottled up, and for helping them process their day
Thank you for reminding them how proud of them you are. Don’t forget to tell them how proud of them you are.
Being a rockstar is exhausting. I’m glad you have their back.