Updated: April 20, 2020
Originally Published: May 7, 2017
The human body is truly remarkable. During my pregnancy, I found it nothing short of miraculous. Just 72 hours after a single encounter of unprotected intimacy, I sensed I was expecting our second child. This realization was surprising, especially considering I was 35 years old and it was just one instance, but I felt it deep within me. Before even taking a test, I began calculating the weeks and estimating a due date, which landed in early December—meaning I would have a September baby.
In today’s world, being born in September carries its own implications. I couldn’t shake the thought, especially after discovering I was expecting a boy. As the years passed and kindergarten approached, I noticed the discomfort of other mothers when they posed the question, “What are your plans for school?”
Many mothers who had chosen to hold their late-born sons back shared positive feedback about their decisions. Conversely, some who did not and faced the need for their sons to repeat a grade expressed regret, citing the social pressures involved. They consistently advised me to consider delaying my child’s entry into school for the advantages he would gain in the long run: improved fine motor skills, better ability to follow directions, and enhanced maturity. A common theme revolved around the physicality of boys; they noted, “He will be older, bigger, faster, and taller,” which seemed preferable to being younger, smaller, and slower.
To clarify, I am an educator. I spent years as a classroom teacher and now teach at the university level, preparing future educators. I hold a doctorate in special education, which, ironically, has little bearing on my experience as a mother. I understand educational milestones, effective teaching practices, and developmental appropriateness. Furthermore, I am aware that kindergarten has evolved into what feels more like first grade, as I know what my September child will encounter in school. However, possessing this knowledge didn’t necessarily clarify my decision-making process.
Ultimately, I decided to delay my September child’s entry into kindergarten, but not for the reasons one might assume.
Registration begins in January, and for months leading up to it, I found myself torn between Should I or Shouldn’t I? Starting him too early could have repercussions, yet delaying could also bring challenges. Some days, I wished for a third option. I knew I needed to blend my professional insights with my child’s needs and let him steer the decision.
My September boy is intelligent and capable and could have navigated kindergarten at just 4 years old. However, as registration day approached, I realized that while he could manage, I wasn’t convinced he needed to. One morning, I observed him in his pajamas, his head resting on the floor, intently focused on testing the durability of his Lego suspension bridge. His concentration was impressive as he strategized his next move, ready to put his engineering skills to the test with a line of tanker cars pulled by his favorite steam engine.
At that moment, clarity struck. This was no longer just a decision I had to make—it was one I could make. I recognized that my September child was blessed with the gift of time, and I was determined to provide that gift.
We embraced the extra year, allowing him to remain a child for a little longer. While he could have started school at the usual time and had to rise early each day, we instead enjoyed leisurely mornings in our pajamas until about 8:15 a.m., taking the scenic route to preschool. Instead of facing extended periods of structured learning, he engaged in unstructured play, dressing up, and enjoying many Fridays at home. He avoided the challenges of navigating bathrooms and busy hallways, instead savoring lunch and snacks delivered to his classroom.
Our educational system imposes certain pressures on young children. This reality made me realize that being born in September meant more than just a birthday; it had profound implications for my child’s experience. While I’m not inclined to confront the status quo, I can take steps to shield my child from its pressures.
In retrospect, choosing to delay my September boy’s start to school was undeniably the right decision for us. As the school year draws to a close, it is clear that granting him the gift of time was one of the best choices we could have made. He began school when he felt ready, which fostered his confidence, happiness, and enthusiasm for learning. He relishes school in a way I doubt he would have without that additional time. The advantage I provided him had nothing to do with physical attributes; I have no idea if he will be taller or faster than his peers, and honestly, that matters little. What truly counts is his joy and vibrancy as a little boy who loves school, and I’ll choose happiness over speed every time.
For more insights on family planning, you can explore excellent resources such as Resolve. Additionally, if you’re seeking information on home insemination options, consider checking out this post.
Summary:
As an educator, I chose to delay my September child’s kindergarten entry, understanding the benefits this decision could offer him in terms of development and happiness. Observing his play and focus made it clear that he had the gift of time, which we embraced. This choice allowed him to thrive in a nurturing environment before facing the demands of school, ultimately leading to a more joyful and confident approach to learning.
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