Preschool Problems

It’s so eerily quiet.  I sit here staring blankly at my monitor. 

I usually welcome the quiet, but today it’s daunting.  I’m not as excited as I thought I would be to have two whole hours of uninterrupted work time.  Suddenly I don’t know what to do with myself.  I just dropped my youngest off at preschool for a third day in a row, and it went the same all three days.  She squeals with delight, skipping excitedly at my side as we walk into the school.  When it’s time for me to leave, she clamps onto me like a huge suction cup, crying as she buries her face into my shirt. 

I know that the best thing to do when this happens is to kiss her goodbye and leave quickly, but I hate it.  I feel like I’m betraying her.  Thank goodness she has an awesome, nurturing teacher or I would really lose it.  She does the same thing when I come to pick her up.  As soon as the parents start showing up, she cries.  I have to carry her out to the car, and she won’t even talk to me until we get home.  The teacher assures me that this is temporary, and I agree with her.  I know my daughter is more than ready for preschool.  But my heart obviously doesn’t listen because I continue to sit here, worrying like a nervous Nelly the whole time she’s away.   

When I dropped my son off at second grade last week, just the opposite happened.  As we walked down the hallway to his classroom he kept scampering ahead of me, impatient.  When we got to the room he ran in and got busy catching up with his friends.  I think he forgot I was in the hallway, waiting for my goodbye for a good minute or so.  This also saddened me in a different way.  My family is reaching the stage where mommy and daddy aren’t the center of the universe anymore, and in certain cases we can even be extremely uncool.  The pace at which Nick seems to be growing up totally freaks me out sometimes.  No matter how much I try to stall it. 

So here I am, fretting about my “baby” at preschool when I’m supposed to be carrying out all my grand plans for the morning.  I’ve been counting down the minutes until I can pick her up.   I think I’ll give up on the whole work thing right now.  Mommy needs some time to adjust, too.   It seems I’m having just as much trouble letting her go as she is me.  Maybe it’s because she’s my youngest.  Or maybe it’s because I’m realizing how quickly she’s reaching that next stage of childhood.  In any case, I think I’ll go for a run and ponder the issue.  Hopefully tomorrow will be a better day. 🙂