Restless

8:50 p.m.      Anna has just fallen asleep.

The worries of her mind kept her from relaxing and releasing into sleep. Tomorrow is her first day of first grade and it has been looming in front of her like a dark cave. She doesn't know what she's stepping into and despite our best attempts to ease her fears, she is still shaken up. Yesterday and today were filled with sudden attacks of remembering that school would be here soon. Anna would cuddle up to me, grab my arm or waist and start a frantic whisper that she would miss me. I try to calm her fears, but I know what she's going through. I remember those panicky feelings that something was about to derail life as you know it.

And, yes, it will be alright. And, yes, she will have a great teacher and gain friends. But I'm secretly just as worried as she is... because I will miss her every bit as much as she misses me.

We used a relaxation cd tonight that is supposed to help her calm her mind and fall asleep. I like these "tools" and it did work.  Anna's anxieties and fears have become a subject of much family focus lately. They've caused us to challenge our perspectives on how we handle "behavior" problems and instead look for ways to make our household more relaxed and calm. I'm not sure how this works alongside a strong-willed four-year-old boy, but I am learning.

Relaxation and stress reduction are so interesting. On one hand, I believe they are crucially important. On the other hand, they feel so... selfish. And now that I'm focusing on them for Anna's sake, and trying to preserve calm and peace for her, it does cause me to re-evaluate how I apply these same principles for myself. If they're necessary for Anna to be at her best... well, I suppose that means they are necessary for our entire family.

This morning at church, the children's pastor spoke of how each child would be facing something new tomorrow. However, none of them would be alone. There will be teachers and other kids and people to help them when they don't know what's going on. It's okay to turn to a fellow student and ask them what they're supposed to do. We are never alone. It was a good lesson.

Tomorrow we will walk Anna down to the school and line up outside the building. We are looking for the sign that says 1P. First grade, Mrs. Popovich. Will the other kids be as nervous as they line up? Will the other moms be on the verge of tears? Oh probably. But I keep telling myself that Anna is not alone. And that I am not alone, for that matter. We are surrounded by others experiencing this same newness. We'll all figure it out together.