Hey there! I’m Emma, and this is my son, my firstborn. He’s in your class this year.
I hope I don’t come off as “That Mom,” but I want to share something personal. Not too long ago, the thought of leaving my little one at preschool made me tear up. Back then, he was a chubby toddler, not the tall, lanky kid you see before you. I used to push him on the swing at the park, and my imagination would run wild with panic about the day I had to drop him off at school. I couldn’t fathom trusting anyone else with his safety. My mind played scenes from movies like Kramer vs. Kramer, where Dustin Hoffman rushes his injured son to the hospital after a playground mishap, and I just knew I would never let go.
Then, I had another baby, and suddenly, preschool didn’t seem so daunting anymore. It became a magical oasis that offered me a bit of sanity. I did shed a few tears during that first drop-off, but thankfully, I haven’t cried since. This boy of mine has a love for school; he thrives in the classroom. So, I can’t be sad about his new beginnings anymore.
Just a heads-up: you have some pretty big shoes to fill! My favorite teacher was Mrs. Sarah Thompson, who, looking back, was the last one to let me embrace my inner child before the harsh realities of middle school kicked in. Sixth grade hit hard with lockers, puberty, and all that. I’m hoping my son can enjoy this final year of elementary school in a similar way because adulthood stretches on way longer than childhood, leaving little time for fun activities like reading and arts and crafts. And trust me, he’s still very much a child. He’s the kid who invents games with his brothers on rainy days, showers his baby sister with kisses, and still changes the channel when scary movies come on TV, even if he won’t admit it. I want him to cherish this last year of elementary school. Thank you for preparing him for middle school, but please remember he still has some baby teeth left to lose.
You’ll be holding a piece of my heart in your classroom this year, so please be kind to him. He adores school and still carries the innocent confidence of a child who hasn’t yet faced algebra or Shakespeare’s witty language. He thinks he’s invincible! I know this won’t last forever, so I’m clinging to these fleeting moments when he doesn’t care about his hair or how his grades might affect his GPA.
Please encourage him, challenge him, and appreciate him for the wonderful kid he is. He’s incredibly bright, but keep it to yourself—let him work for his learning. It will mean so much more to him in the long run. Push him to see what he can achieve.
I hope you’ll be patient with me when I reach out with my concerns. Some will be valid, while others might be a bit silly, but know that I’m trying my best not to be a helicopter parent. The line between being involved and overstepping is so blurry nowadays. I’m not even sure if I should check his homework; some teachers want that, and others don’t. I’m eager to help in the classroom but don’t want you to think I’m trying to get too cozy in your space.
I trust my son will be just fine, and I can’t wait to see how you guide him this year. At the end of the day, I just want him to be happy and have a great year, and I know you want that too. I’m here to support both of you.
Now, what I actually said to my son’s new fifth-grade teacher during our brief encounter while other parents and kids buzzed around us, with beads of sweat forming on my forehead, was: “Hi, I’m Emma. This is my son. He’s in your class this year. Um, so… where’s his desk?”
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In summary, as I navigate this journey of parenting, I want to ensure my son’s teacher knows how much he still needs nurturing and encouragement, while also being prepared for the challenges ahead. My hopes are high for this school year!