What I Wish I Had Told My Son’s New Fifth-Grade Teacher

home insemination Kit

Hey there! I’m Jenna, and this is my son, my oldest child, who’s in your class this year.

I hope I don’t come off as “That Mom,” but I have to admit that not too long ago, the thought of dropping my little one off at preschool made me tear up. Back then, he was this adorable chubby toddler, not the tall, lanky kid he is now. I used to push him on the swings and panic at the idea of leaving him at school, convinced I could never trust anyone else with his well-being. I pictured dramatic scenes, like something out of a movie, with me rushing him to the ER after a playground mishap.

Then we had another little one, and suddenly preschool didn’t seem so daunting. It became a magical haven for my sanity. Sure, I shed a few tears on that first drop-off day, but I haven’t since. My son absolutely loves school and thrives in the classroom, so I’m no longer sad about his first days.

But I want you to know that you have some big shoes to fill. My own fifth-grade teacher, Mrs. Emily Harper, was incredible. Looking back, she was the last teacher who let me embrace my childhood before the whirlwind of middle school took over. That year allowed me to enjoy being a kid just a little longer, and I truly hope my son gets the same chance. Adulthood is so much longer than childhood, with less time for fun projects and reading for joy. He is still very much a child—he crafts games with his siblings on rainy days, showers kisses on his baby sister, and even changes the channel when a spooky movie comes on, even if he won’t admit it. I want him to savor this final year of elementary school. Thank you for preparing him for middle school, but please remember he still has some baby teeth to lose.

You’ll have a part of my heart in your classroom this year, so be gentle with him. He loves learning and still holds on to that innocent confidence that comes from not yet facing algebra or Shakespeare. He believes he’s invincible and that’s a beautiful thing, even if it can’t last forever. I want to cherish these days when he’s not worrying about grades or how he looks.

Please encourage him, challenge him, and recognize that he’s a genuinely good kid. He’s incredibly smart, but don’t let him know that too soon! Encourage him to engage with his learning and put effort into his work; it will benefit him tremendously. Challenge him to push his limits and see what he can achieve.

And hey, I might reach out with some concerns via email—some will be totally valid, and others might be a bit silly. Just know I’m trying to navigate this whole parenting thing. It’s tough these days to figure out what a “good” parent is supposed to look like. I’ve heard not to hover but still be involved. Sometimes I’m unsure if I should be checking his homework or leaving it to him. I’m excited to help out in the classroom, but I hope it doesn’t come off like I’m trying to invade your space.

I trust that my son will be just fine, and I can’t wait to see what you bring to his year. Ultimately, I just want him to be happy and have a great experience, and I know you share that goal. I’m here to support both of you.

What I actually said to my son’s new fifth-grade teacher at the Meet the Teacher event while other parents buzzed around us and I tried not to sweat too much was: “Hi, I’m Jenna. This is my son. He’s in your class this year. Um, so…where’s his desk?”

To read more about parenting and home insemination, check out this post.

In summary, the piece reflects a mother’s heartfelt thoughts about her son’s transition to fifth grade, sharing her hopes for him to have a nurturing school experience while expressing her own challenges as a parent.