Oh, it’s that time of year again.
Here in New England, we can feel it before we can quite see it.
The mornings are cooler. The afternoons are still warm and golden. The first tired leaves are beginning to flutter down from the trees. Goldenrod lines the roadsides, and apples are growing round and red on branches that seem to hang a little lower each day.
Summer is still here—but autumn is whispering that she is on her way.
And with her comes another familiar threshold: back to school.
For some families, this will be a return to a beloved teacher and familiar classroom. For others, this may be the very first time your little one has left the nest of home and stepped into the care of someone else.
And Mama, that is no small thing.
Young Children Live in the Present Moment
One of the great gifts of early childhood is that the young child still lives so beautifully in the here and now.
They are not counting down the weeks until September.
They are digging in the dirt.
They are watching the caterpillar crawl across the stone.
They are eating the peach whose juice is running down their arm.
They are wondering where the ants go when they disappear beneath the garden path.
This is where they belong.
So while we may be looking at the calendar and thinking, Three weeks until school, your young child does not need to carry that anticipation with you.
Sometimes, in our own excitement or anxiety, we begin talking about school far too early.
Are you excited?
You’re going to school soon!
You’re going to have a new teacher!
Are you nervous?
But for the young child, all of that can become something they are being asked to hold before they have the capacity to understand what it means.
Talk about your excitement with your spouse. Call your best friend. Share your worries with someone you trust.
And let your little one have these last sweet days of summer.
Begin With Rhythm, Not Words
Before I would begin talking very much about school, I would begin quietly shifting the rhythm of home.
Perhaps bedtime has wandered later during these long summer evenings.
Perhaps breakfast happens whenever everyone finally wanders into the kitchen.
Perhaps bare feet and bathing suits have been the uniform of the day.
There is nothing wrong with any of that. Summer has its own beautiful rhythm.
But as school approaches, we can gently begin gathering the edges again.
Move bedtime a little earlier.
Wake a little earlier.
Begin breakfast around the time it will happen on school mornings.
Maybe clothes are laid out together the evening before.
Maybe after breakfast there is a little walk outside before the day begins.
Nothing dramatic.
We are simply helping the body learn the new rhythm before asking the mind to understand it.
Rhythm can hold a young child when words cannot.
Let Story Carry What Explanation Cannot
As the first day draws closer, rather than explaining too much, we can offer the young child something they understand deeply: a story.
A simple healing story can carry images of leaving home, being lovingly received by another trusted adult, finding one’s way into a new rhythm, and knowing that Mama will always return.
You might tell the story while you are drawing together, folding laundry, sitting outside beneath a tree, or tucked together at bedtime.
The child doesn’t need to be told, “This story is about you going to school.”
Simply tell the story and allow its images to live quietly within them.
Young children often take these pictures deeply into themselves and work with them later through their play.
Sometimes a story can go where our explanations cannot.
Mama, This Is Your Transition Too
And now I want to turn toward you.
Because if this is your child’s first time going to school—or if separation has been difficult before—there may be a great deal stirring inside of you.
Excitement.
Grief.
Relief.
Fear.
Tenderness.
Maybe even the strange feeling of wondering how the years passed so quickly.
You carried this little person.
You have known the particular sound of their cry, the weight of their sleeping body against yours, the foods they love, the things that frighten them, the funny little ways they move through their day.
And now you are handing them into someone else’s care.
Of course that can bring feelings.
Make room for them.
Talk about them with someone you trust. Write them down. Take them for a walk in the woods. Let yourself cry if you need to.
But we don’t need to ask our young children to carry those feelings for us.
Do You Trust Where You Are Leaving Your Child?
Before that first morning arrives, do your practical work too.
Have you met the teacher?
Have you asked the questions you need to ask?
Have you spent time in the space?
Do you understand the rhythm of your child’s day?
When you picture your child there without you, do you feel trust?
I want parents to take these questions seriously.
You do not need a perfect school.
You do not need a perfect teacher.
But you do need to feel that the adults caring for your child see the young child with reverence and understand the tremendous responsibility of being entrusted with them.
If you have concerns, bring them to the adults.
Your child does not need to be brought into every adult uncertainty.
They need to feel the ground beneath your feet.
Soothe Yourself First: Co-Regulating With Your Child
Before we can help our young child find their ground, we have to find our own.
Our children are constantly reading us—not only our words, but our breath, our bodies, our pace, our faces, and the energy we bring into a room.
This is co-regulation.
When your little one is anxious about separating, you don’t need to talk them out of their feelings or convince them that there is nothing to be afraid of.
Instead, you can become the steady place beside them.
Slow your own breathing.
Soften your voice.
Slow down your movements.
Get close.
Hold a hand or offer a warm embrace if your child wants one.
And most importantly, allow the feeling to be there without becoming frightened by it yourself.
I know. It’s hard to say goodbye. I’m right here.
We don’t need to rush in with:
You’re fine!
There’s nothing to be sad about!
You’re going to have so much fun!
Because perhaps in that moment, they aren’t fine.
Perhaps they are sad.
Perhaps leaving Mama really does feel hard.
We can meet that feeling without making it bigger—and without needing to make it disappear.
Your calm body is quietly saying:
You can have this feeling.
I can stay with you while you have it.
I trust that you can move through it.
Our children borrow our steadiness until, little by little, they internalize it—so that over time they can begin to access and return to their own sense of calm, even when we are not right beside them.
And Mama, this is why tending to your own nervous system isn’t separate from caring for your child.
It is part of caring for your child.
Your Child Will Feel Your Goodbye
Young children are deeply perceptive.
Long before they can explain our emotional states, they can often feel them.
Our breathing.
Our pace.
The way our hands move.
The tone of our voice.
The hesitation at the classroom door.
So on that first morning, your work may be surprisingly simple:
Breathe.
Feel your feet on the earth.
Let your shoulders soften.
Give your child a warm, clear goodbye.
Not sneaking away.
Not stretching the goodbye into twenty minutes because you are having trouble leaving.
A loving, confident goodbye.
I love you. You’re going to have your morning here, and I will come back after lunch.
And then trust the teacher to receive your child.
You may get back into your car and cry.
That’s okay.
Call your best friend.
Take a walk.
Have a cup of tea.
Let yourself feel the enormity of this little threshold.
But allow your child to have their experience without needing to take care of yours.
A New Season Is Beginning
There is something so tender about this time of year, this time in our parenting journey.
Our children, too, move outward just a little farther than they did before.
This is the work of childhood.
And perhaps some of the work of parenthood is learning, little by little, how to open our hands while keeping our hearts very near.
Parenting young children may be the hardest job you’ll ever love.
And you don’t have to do it alone.
If you’re moving through a school transition, difficult drop-offs, changing family rhythms, boundaries, or simply wondering how to meet your young child with more confidence and connection, I offer parent coaching as a place to slow down, observe, and find the next right step for your family.
You can reach out for a Curiosity Call and we can see if working together feels like a good fit.
Always with Joy, Kristin
