June 8, 2015 by vlittle528
God is teaching me some sort of lesson I am sure. But, as with almost all of His lessons, I don’t think I am going to see the beauty in that lesson until I get through the hard part. I am confident that he led me to the right decision, and I am even confident in my knowledge that he made things a little extra hard so I would know beyond a reason of doubt that I was doing what my kids needed me to do. But what is right often comes with a little bit of pressure or pain.
I thought I was completely through the hard stuff. My family has been through the ringer at my kids’ school. It was like being on a merry-go-round with a horse that needed a good greasing. At first the ride was smooth, and then there were some bumps, and then we just got stuck on the bottom with no upswing in sight.
I thought I could make things better. I thought, for some crazy reason, that I could advocate for my children until I was blue in the face and get them what they needed. But there are always doors that are locked to us. When we reach those doors and try the keys we were given only to have them slammed shut again then we need to walk away from that door and go to an open one. I could get into all of the nitty gritty but it really isn’t the lesson in this case. The lesson was that I shouldn’t put my trust so easily in someone who hasn’t given me reason to trust them. The lesson was that I should put my worth in God and not in others who can abuse that privilege. The lesson was that no matter what, my job as a mom and wife is to do what I know is right, no matter how hard it may be.
After a VERY rough year, following on the heels of two difficult years before that, it finally came to a hard decision for our family. Did we leave the school or did we stay and hope things would get better. Did we leave the teachers we love so much and believe in to go to the unknown? Even when my son got accepted to a magnet school that will definitely be better for him, we had to make the decision for our daughter. It certainly would have been easier for all of us to stay. She had her friends, we know the school and the teachers, and it is super close to our house. But, in my heart of hearts, I knew that I couldn’t forget what I had seen and heard or how I had been treated. I couldn’t send my child to a school that I don’t believe in, that I don’t completely feel safe with.
So I prayed. A LOT. I even had the church pray chain pray for me (I submitted more than a few requests 🙂 ) I was scared I was making the decision for myself rather than my daughter. I was afraid I was running from a school where maybe she would never have a problem. But it was that maybe that stuck in my throat and my heart. I can’t gamble with my children, there is no taking chances with them. So we decided that both of them would change schools.
In the beginning, my decision was pretty easy. It seemed that one thing after another just kept happening and each incident, each lie, each harsh word just reinforced what we had decided. I was able to close my eyes and my heart to everything that was around me. I was able to back out of the situation even though so many didn’t know why so they could only believe what they were hearing.
And it worked for the most part. Until now, until the end. Now I have come out of my fog of denial and looked at the almost-third-graders that I have known since they started kindergarten. I have realized that I won’t see them daily for the next 3 years. I won’t see their smiles and waves or hear the cute “Hi Mrs. Vicki!” I have stood next to wonderful, strong women on the playground after school and realized I won’t get to hear their advice or swap stories about kids anymore. I suppose you can say I will make new friends, which I will. But there is something special about those friends you have had “since kindergarten”. Even for adults. And all the new little ones I will get to meet. I won’t have known them “since kindergarten” either. It certainly is true that every friend we meet leaves an imprint on our heart.
The facade I was keeping around my heart broke just a little bit each day for the last couple of days. First it was celebrating with my son’s class at the park, and getting a bit sentimental as I watched the kids play with water balloons and heard the teachers I love so dearly talking about their plans for the next year. And then it was watching my daughter and her first real friend swinging on the playground together, saying how much they will miss each other next year. And then today I went from sentimental to sad when my daughter’s kindergarten teacher said that she couldn’t wait to watch them grow up in school. And the first tear fell when the mom of one of those little kids I care for so much told me it hit her that I wouldn’t be there anymore, and it was weird because I was “a part of the school.” And I was. For three years I was very involved in that school.
Sometimes the best decisions aren’t the easy ones. We know that they are the right decision, we know that they are the best decision, and we know that life will go on. I know we will meet so many new and great people, and we have so many wonderful adventures waiting for us. But I am sad that my kids and I have to leave and never finish what we started. I am mad that we won’t get to spend time with those higher-grade teachers that we enjoyed getting to know. And I am angry that so few people can affect so many. I guess before I move on I need to mourn the changes.
So I am going to let my children see me cry just a bit to know that I am sad we are leaving as well, to show them that the feelings we are having are completely fine. And then I am going to wipe my eyes, store my memories in my heart, and look forward to new experiences and new friends to add to my family of old ones. We may have hit a bump, but we have a lot more love to give. And, as one of those beautiful teachers quoted from Winnie The Pooh, ““How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.”