Always Be Prepared

It took weeks of preparation...planning, researching, list-making, shopping. You can't just throw something together willy-nilly at the last minute. You must reflect on all possible outcomes and choose your path. I made phone calls, filled out forms, worried and fretted over the course of action: are we ready? should we wait? Finally, I made the decision and enrolled the Pie in preschool.

It was agonizing for me, because I wanted the Pie to become more socially acclimated for when she starts kindergarten. Her child care arrangement up until recently was just her and Mimi. But I felt she needed to be around kids her own age for her to learn how to share, make friends and impress teachers. So, after much thought and reflection, I found a small church preschool that is affordable and is only two and a half hours 3 days a week. It's located very close to Mimi's house so I felt there was some familiarity for the Pie.

On Meet the Teacher Day, Mimi and I loaded up the Pie and took her to meet the ladies to whom I was entrusting her for the next 9 months. They were lovely ladies - one was a bit too perky for my taste, but we're talking about preschool teachers here, so I guess she filled the bill. During our visit, the Pie was friendly and inquisitive. She was anxious to enter the building and investigate everything available to her. She picked out her chair at the table and claimed to be hers for ever more. I half expected her to plant a flag in it!

On the first day of class, I expected the Pie to experience some separation anxiety. I thought she would cry when I left her, or she would drag her heels on entering the classroom. I envisioned holding her and patting her back while telling her everything would be alright and Mama would be right back to pick her up. Guiltily, I admit I even wanted a little of that. I needed to know she would miss me. Umm...not so much.

When we arrived, she dressed in her black and white toille dress and cute little black shoes, the Pie sprinted to the doors and down the hall to her classroom. She let go of my hand, walked into the room and never looked back. Folks, I was devastated. I wondered what I had done wrong that she was so anxious to get away from me. So eager to be in the care of virtual strangers and be surrounded by kids she didn't know. I honestly stood in the hall, my hand empty of hers, wondering what had just happened. A few seconds later, the Pie came running out of the room and into my arms. "I love you, Mama," she said. And tears rolled down my face. I hugged her with ferocity and kissed the top of her head, breathing in the smell of her lavender shampoo.. What was at first a moment of slight sadness quickly turned to a grand moment of inexplicable joy.

It was in that instant that I realized I had done my job. I had prepared her for the day she would have to leave the safety of home and go to school. I guided her to be strong and independent. I encouraged her to be brave and outgoing, to be honest and respectful. These are tools she will need for the rest of her life and as her mother, I provided her with lessons so that she could acquire them. I was proud of her and proud of myself.

Now, pass the Kleenex...