Recently, my daughter turned two and is now enrolled in preschool. (Insert big sigh of worry here.) I knew it was something I had to eventually do, but I was convinced that I could keep pushing it off. She’s been at her home daycare for nearly two years. How in the world was I supposed to explain to her that she was now going to go to a new school? The constant battle of my emotions of what I thought she needed and what needed to be done was tearing my up inside.
Monday morning came and it was the first day at preschool. I took an hour off of work to drop her off with my husband. For weeks, I told my husband that I didn’t know if she was ready. I questioned if we were doing the right thing for her. His response to all of my constant nagging and lack of confidence our decision, “I don’t think you’re ready to let her go.” I was in disbelief that he even thought that. Of course I was ready! Or was I?
All doubt of my daughter not wanting to go to a different school went out the window.
When we toured her preschool, she cried because she didn’t want to leave her new teacher and friends.
When we dropped off her tuition, she cried yet again because she didn’t want to leave.
When I dropped her off on her first day of school, she ran off to her classroom and started to play. No tears from us leaving, just all smiles that she was at school.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. She ran away from us and didn’t hug us goodbye. It was evident at that moment, that I was the one who was scared. I was the one who couldn’t let go. I was the one who needed a hug before I left her.
This new start didn’t effect her in the least bit. She wasn’t nervous, she was excited. The transition effected me because I finally realized my baby is no longer a baby. Shortly after my realization, I had to let go with understanding that she was okay and I needed to compose myself for her.
Damn it! I hate when my husband is right.