My daughter’s first day of preschool was far too easy. She was dressed with her coat on a solid 30 minutes before we needed to leave.
Once in the door, she hopped into the classroom and was quickly enthralled with a wooden train set.
When I went to tell her goodbye she simply said, “Okay, bye Mommy and Daddy!”
Then she joined her classmates for circle time. It was terrible.
I’ve spent the past year at home with CeCe, taking her to story times, hosting hours of tea parties and watching Disney movies on replay.
I put great effort into bonding with her and, frankly, I’m a little insulted she doesn’t miss me more.
It sounds insane to wish separation anxiety on your child.
I don’t mean I would enjoy trying to pry her out of my arms, sobbing in the school drop-off line. But a little extra hug each morning wouldn’t kill either of us.
People keep telling me to be grateful that she is so well adjusted. She is secure enough to know I will always come back for her.
But, meanwhile, I sit at work staring at her photo and wondering if she likes her new teachers more than me.
It’s an odd balance, to be happy your child likes school while simultaneously wishing you would stay her best friend just a little while longer.
Instead I’m competing with Sydney, a 4-year-old who is already cooler than me.
We are in for a long road, since part-day preschool is just the beginning.
Next will come full-day schooling, sleep-away camp, and college will be here before I know it.
By then I might be begging her to leave the nest, but for now, I’m still adjusting to the preschool routine.
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