first I'm going to gripe some more, then I'm going to retract it all

The first thing on the list of kindergarten school supplies that we got in the mail was this:
"a standard size backpack (with out wheels)"

In what world is "without" two words? And how can I allow the people who inhabit that world to be in charge of my son's education?

(I saw that list and it scared me. But at the same time, I tried to keep that fear in check. Because I know about myself that I hate change, and I'll look for reasons to be disappointed with a new setup, whatever it is, rather than being open to its potential. I do have at least that level of insight.)

Today, after dropping the kids of at day care, I stopped in at the school to ask whether I missed anything important on Ezra's teacher's message. A wonderfully dear office biddy helped me out, and then the assistant principal came out of her office to say hello. She shook my hand, looked me in the eye, and seemed genuinely happy that I had come by.

When I asked her how the whole morning drop-off thing worked, she told me the parking lot was swarming with adults whose sole responsibility was to help kids out of cars and molest them in the woods behind the school usher them to their classrooms. She told me that most mornings, she herself was out there assisting as well.

I guess she sensed my bewilderment about kindergarten, my feeling nervous about my oldest starting there in a couple of weeks, my sense that the building was so enormous, the halls ten miles long. She said to me, "Don't worry; we'll take good care of him." And right then and there, all my concerns about his teacher assignment, thick Southern accents, the typo in the supplies list, the wee-ness of my boy in a seemingly vast institution, disappeared.

I began to believe that we'll be all right there, and that Ezra will do fine. My fears were just my fears. Completely with out basis.