It's elementary, dear Watson.

School that is. And they are there - Will bouncing along and Em twirling her beautiful skirt - rocking it like only a Karstens could.

The transition was effortless. For them. My babies, who had been in Montessori School since they were each 6 weeks old, were on to a new adventure. I know the staff at NCW as most of them were there when I went to school and taught with my mom for years after I left. They are a tight staff with centuries of experience between them. I know my children will get an excellent education there. I mean, look at how I turned out.

But, as a teacher mama who is now working as a special ed para in the mornings in the school they are in and who has a tendency to overreact just a bit where here babies are concerned, I had a harder time with the change.

My little man, who is braver than I ever imagined, walked into that big cafeteria for breakfast on day two all by himself. He followed the directions the teachers gave him, carried that enormous blue tray to the table and asked me for some help to get things set up. He gave me a kiss and said good bye. And as I peeked in from the doorway he sat quietly alone at the table and ate a bite or two, watching the others confidently come and go from the room. Staff helped him clean up and head out to the gym where he played and played and headed down to his classroom when the other kids did. (No, I did not stay and watch him the whole time. I have my connections.)

Lunch time rolled around and as my schedule insists I brought Will's class in for lunch while a school certified driver took the friend I work with home. Will washed his hands in the same huge yellow tub sink I had washed in as a child, grabbed his lunch box and headed into the cafeteria once again. He was ushered to a big table where the cold lunchers eat due to severe peanut allergies and opened his lunch box. When I came in with the last of the kindergarten stragglers he was sitting alone at his table with his lunch spread out on a napkin. No plate, no spoon, nothing to drink. Okay, silly mama, this is not Montessori school. There are more kids with different staffing and things aren't the same. Are they bad? Absolutely not - just different. Did he need a plate? Not today. Can he get a spoon? Absolutely. I helped him open his stuff as the other staff moved the other kids to the small tables to eat their hot lunches. When I left he was still alone but an older friend was on his way over with his cold lunch.

I had to get to my other job so I couldn't dally but my heart was so heavy. Despite getting him settled in and making a mental note to send a spoon and plate as needed, my head was spinning:

Is my sweet boy with language processing issues alone all the time? How could they let him sit by himself when all of his friends were at the other tables? Couldn't they seat a couple of hot lunchers in his class near him so he wasn't singled out? How can he possibly make friends if he is all alone? What is the deal? Will he be scarred for the rest of the year?

Of course not - he was completely fine. I could tell that when the staff who worked the lunch run talked to me later (after their supervisor talked to them after I mentioned it to their supervisor). They were aware that he was there and were making sure he wasn't alone. Of course they were. I'm surprised they didn't slap me in the head and say, "Really? You really don't trust us enough to make sure he's okay?" It was stinking day two. Get a grip, mama.

So yeah, I said something and they validated my fears and assured me they were keeping tabs on how things were going and Will was/is so very fine and probably will be all year. I'm still gonna keep those eyes and ears out there but I'll maybe wait a beat before I run to supervisors cause I can. And it will make life so much less stressful for everyone involved.

PS

Not to slight my baby-baby. Em is apparently a bright light in her classroom - working and playing and eating and singing and twirling and having all kinds of fun. Loving every minute of it. Not surprising considering her little firecracker self. In case you were wondering.