So, our kid is starting at a new preschool.
It's great. A pig, chickens and a huge rabbit are now a part of his daily encounters, along with as much outside play as he wants. By the color of his skin on this 70 degree spring day, I am going to guess he was out there for most of the day.
When we had out first tour and talked with the teachers they mentioned that we'd need to put together a comfort kit for out son. At first I figured they meant that it was a bag that had stuff in it that they could pull out when and if he got homesick or sad. That's great, I thought.
Then they explained more: It's a collection of food and clothing, a flashlight and a letter from you and family photos...in case of an emergency, like a big earthquake or other emergency that would keep you away for a day or longer (echo: a day or longer...a day or longer...a day or longer...a day or longer). I had a lump in my throat immediately. Like, if we died in a catastrophic earthquake and he was alone and afraid and would never see us again? Or if it took us a day or so to get to him because of unforeseen obstacles?
Commence absolute panic.
So now its a month later. Our almost complete comfort kit is sitting in front of me. It contains a fleece blanket he's had his whole life, a warm fleece outfit, hat and warm socks I got at goodwill, two Cliff protein bars, two chocolately Kind bars, two packages of banana/strawberry puree and undies and jerky. Still left to add: letter and photos. The thought of doing this is nauseating. But also so important. I want to write him a letter. I want to write him a good letter. A letter that says everything I would ever want to say to him. I want to add photos of so many things. I want to add stories of moments and games we play and our favorite things and to try to actually write down the incredible love I have for him. Just in case.
What intense shit!
I hope to all the Gods and Goddesses that exist and have ever existed that my child never ever has to even look at anything in this comfort kit. And I am grateful beyond anything I can even comprehend or imagine that this silly and sweet school is making us do this.
Stupid earthquake prone Seattle.
