I remember Kindergarten Information Night like it was yesterday. The thought of Connor being in the wrong setting for kindergarten made me so very sad I got a migraine. Last night, as I sat in on a middle school orientation, I was awash with those same feelings of sadness - and that same terrible headache.
There's a county middle and high school program that is filled by a lottery. The theory the school purports to follow is that if you give children responsibility, they will behave responsibly. I can already see my sister's eyes rolling as she tells me that some day, I need to step out of my hippy-dippy self. But even her eye roll isn't making me second guess my gut.
Connor needs to be in this school.
Well, maybe he doesn't need to be in this school. But I do believe it is where he would thrive. Which is not to deny that every other applicant would thrive there or to suggest that Connor is more deserving of a spot than anyone else.
Spots are assigned based on neighborhood population. Students from far away neighborhoods tend to be less likely to apply than students close by, so reportedly have better odds of getting in. We live a few blocks away from the school. Of course.
Connor's odds of getting in are tiny. And while normally I throw my hands up to the fates and say if it is to be, it will be. But tonight? I'm wondering if those fates can hear me and if they can, I'm begging them - please look down on my best little guy and gift him a spot in that school.
I just know it's where he should be.