The questions began, "am I making the wrong decision?" "Is this too much too soon?" "Am I scarring her for life?" "Will she resent me for this choice?" Your answer. Of course not. Most every child goes to school, and heck it's even normal for them to cry. Even with that reassuring answer I am not satisfied. It is something I tell my parents all the time. IT IS NORMAL TO CRY! But when it is my child my heart was broken in 2.
Now I may be slightly dramatic here, because she IS my child. The crying only lasted a min or so until the teacher began story time. She wasn't happy about it at first, but she got drawn in so quickly. When the book was finished they marched the children off (in a somewhat single file line) and us parents sat back having piles of information about prek waiting on us.
I watched my little girl in line. She had on the grumpiest face and as a child tried to cut in line she elbowed her. I cringed wondering if I hadn't prepared her for this well enough. After all she IS my baby. Once she was led out of sight I had an action movie of her beating up the class replaying in my head. It was hard to focus on what was going on as parents quizzed the teachers on daily schedules, lunches, nap time, etc. My skin crawled thinking she was going to be going through this entire 7 hour day and I wouldn't be apart of it.
After the informational part of open house we got to sit back and talk with other parents. I took the opportunity to take a look around the room my daughter would be spending most of her day time hours in. Wikki stix, books, listening area, blocks, dress up and kitchen (where I am about 100 percent positive she will spend most of her day). It was fascinating watching all these parents gossip about where their child attends dance class, where their child went to daycare, or the "my child hasn't napped since they were 2" chatter and yet not one other parent got up and walked around to see what their children would be doing through the day. I wanted to SEE it for myself. I wanted to know what she comes home talking about and not just nod or have nothing conversational to say back to my daughter. I want to EXPERIENCE it with her, and I can't, and it sucks, and it's hard.
When Kylie started PREK it was fun. It was new and exciting. Kylie took it like a pro. She acted as if she was the ruler of the school and she had shed not even one tiny tear. She has always been braver than I. The kid is delighted, every year, when school comes around. She talks about it non stop over the summer and she gets anxious to get back in the classroom. It wasn't hard when Kylie started Kindergarten. It was fascinating. It was a rite of freaking passage for her to walk through those doors and spend 7 hours in a school where her daddy grew up in. I had a much harder last day of school with Kylie than the first day. That's how Kylie is. That's her personality. She does, she doesn't think about all the things she will miss she thinks about all she will experience and learn. That is the essence of my oldest daughter. She thrives off in dependency and loves being able to come back with stories, although I'm sure embellished, about her days in the classroom.
My youngest child feels all those deep emotions. And it's different for me. I like to swoop in and solve the problem, but this cannot be solved. I know she will only cry for maybe a few minutes the first day of school (it really helps I won't be dropping off), but I still don't want her too. I know in my heart this feeling will pass. I know it's normal to feel this way. I know I am not crazy. She is the baby. PERIOD.
As I headed to room 2 I found my little girl, with her friend Blake, chattering away with a grin on her face. Once the girls spotted us mothers they bounded our way. Madilyn smiled and said, "I really like this school mommy." And that's when I KNEW she will be okay, she will live through this, and forgive me. I just need to keep reminding myself to breathe because at the end of the day she will always believe that pre-kindergarten is cool and that her mommy will always love her.
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