We returned to Elsie's very first day of school. She did great! And so did I.
Myriad stories about tearful first days of school (always tearful on mom's end, sometimes tearful on the child's, too) left me ready for emotion. My mom always mentions tearing up at my first day. Grandmama takes the cake with a story about my mom (her youngest child) screaming bloody murder on the first day of school, and her crying outside the window of the classroom right along with her. But our situation is different. Elsie has been going to a group daycare since she was 3 months old. You bet I cried through my entire first day at work without my infant. Now I'm far more comfortable with the separation. Indeed, I have been looking forward to it for weeks! I love my daughter dearly, but mornings to myself mean better meal planning and cleaning of the house, projects that have been delayed for years, and the chance to actually seek some part-time employment. It means regular haircuts and exercise and the occasional coffee with friends. I'm psyched!
I tried to temper my excitement when I dropped Elsie off this morning for her truncated, half-class warm-up of a first day. I didn't want any of the other moms to be shocked and appalled at my unadulterated glee.
Elsie donned her brand new backpack (I know, I know, I'm usually not so into the gear, but I just couldn't resist! She chose the ROBOTS! That's my girl!) full of a change of clothes and a very important report from the pedi (which I should have sent in weeks ago), declaring Elsie fit for school. I took the requisite picture, then noticed my daughter needed shoes, sparing me the embarrassment of showing up with a barefoot child, which is, by the way, something I would totally do.
Clad in appropriate footwear, Elsie and I walked there on foot. Our cat Lily, faithful as a dog, trotted along at our heels, stopping at the edge of her territory and crying for us when we walked beyond it. She's a sweet but nutty feline.
All checked in, Elsie and I hung up her backpack on her personalized hook and entered the classroom where we met the 4 teachers on duty for 6 children that day. Woah! Lots of teachers! They were really nice. Of course. I asked Elsie if she wanted me to wash her hands or the teacher. She chose the teacher.
"Do you want me to stay, or is it okay for me to go now?" I asked the teacher.
"Whatever you want." She told me. It has been impressed upon me many, many times that I am welcome to stay as long as I want and visit whenever I want to make the transition easier for my child.
I glanced at Elsie. Kid looked fine. I smiled, nodded, and made my quiet exit. No point in messing with a smooth transition!
"Are you leaving?" asked her main teacher. He seemed a wee bit surprised at the quick hand-off, but not appalled.
"If that's okay." I said. "Would you rather I stay? I could if you think it would help." Having worked in childcare myself, I know the answer to this. Most of the time, the teacher wants you to leave, declutter the space, and start the kid's most important transition, the one of personal autonomy in a new group -- which necessarily takes place without the parent. But all the other parents were hanging around, some on the sidelines, others right with their kids, and I don't want to be That Mom who just walks out the door.
"It's okay. If you think Elsie's alright..."
I peeked through the door to see my daughter settled in at the arts and crafts table, hard at work on her masterpiece next to a sweet little girl named Caroleena. I smiled, nodded, and walked out -- hoping very much that some other parents would be close behind me. One mom, dropping off her forth child, was. Phew. I actively try to raise Elsie as though she was my 3rd, not my first. I'm on the right track.
I practically skipped home to a quiet two hours, picking up my crazy cat on the way, right under the nose of a very befuddled neighbor who had spent the last 20 minutes trying to decide whether or not to call a vet for all Lily's moaning, fearing she hurt. I apologized for the disturbance and reassured her that my cat is fine. Just sweet in a needy and devoted kind of way.
***
I was the first mom back to pick Elsie up right on time, yet she was the last to leave the school because she was so deeply entrenched at that playground. As the number of children on the playground dwindled around us, I finally pried her from the slide. She protested and shed a few tears that she had to go home. I think she liked it!
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