Hard to Handle

So we're on Day 4 of kindergarten now.

Kendall still can't understand why I wake her up before the sun comes up every morning and then not let her stay home when she says her tummy or her throat hurts.

We stumble our way through breakfast, devastated that we don't have time to watch Martha Speaks before heading out the door.

This morning was the first morning I haven't walked her inside to her classroom; we decided to let Olivia from across the street walk her in. I was thinking this might make it easier to separate -- quick, like a Band-Aid. As I pulled up into the carpool drop off, Kendall exclaimed, frantically, "Why are we going around the circle???" I told her that Olivia was going to hold her hand and walk her into Mrs. Nations.

The response?

Sobs. Terrible, weepy, wet sobs.

And that was just from me.

Kendall's crying was much louder and much worse.

So as the teacher opened the door and helped Kendall from the truck, I saw the look on Olivia's face. She had to be thinking, "Why did I volunteer for this?" But being the awesome friend that she is, she took Kendall's shaky little hand and led her into the building. I had to drive away before she even got in the building.

And now I'm crying, knowing that I sent a crying baby into a building of kids she doesn't know with adults she doesn't know. I know that she is well taken care of at school. My brain knows that her teacher has been teacher for 13 years and will take good care of my baby. My brain knows that she will be taught, fed, loved, protected -- but my heart knows that she really wants me. And that no one can do it like I do. (And yes, secretly, a part of me doesn't want her to love anyone else!)

So here I sit, hoping she's doing OK. I really want her to like school; I was such a bookworm my whole life. I loved school. I loved learning and socializing. I loved going somewhere new. I still love school -- I guess that's why I became a teacher. And now I want to be a kindergarten mommy, who goes to eat lunch with my little girl and reads to her class. But I know I can't do that until she gets settled. The last thing she needs is to have to say a teary goodbye twice in one day.

I know it will get easier. (It certainly can't get harder.) Maybe once she gets used to the schedule, the crying will stop. She has to know how much I miss her during the day ... and she has to know how much she's not missing at home. I mean really, Tanner and I aren't doing anything fun that she's missing! And hopefully she will realize how wonderful her teacher is and how much she loves her, too.

Here's hoping that week 2 is easier.

And she can be a bookwork like her Mommy!