August 31, 2006

Worse than Nunchaku

Today was one of the most gut-wrenching days of my entire life. I have never felt such raw emotions as I did today. I know I probably won’t get a lot of sympathy; Most parents put their children in preschool or daycare at some point leading up to Kindergarten. I chose not to do so with Big I, and today was hard.

No one warned me what today would be like. They said things like "It will be hard, but it will be exciting." No one defined "hard" for me. Hard is putting it lightly.

We took Big I to school this morning and she was a bit apprehensive. As they called the children class by class to make their exit and head to the classrooms, Big I got more and more worried. Her eyes welled up with tears and I gave her a colossal hug. I told her everything would be o.k., hoping that I was right about that. When it was her turn, I held her hand and walked her over to her teacher. She got in line and stayed there looking as if I was sending her off to her execution. As the line started to move, she turned a scared little face and waved goodbye.

I choked, held my breathe, and waited until she was out of the room. . . and then the flood gates let loose. Oh, how I cried. . . and cried. . . and cried. I figured that when I got home I’d feel better. I’d play with Lil C. But Lil C had other plans and took a marathon nap from 9-11:30 a.m. and I was alone.

I was not prepared for the quiet. I was not prepared for the loneliness. I was not prepared for the urge to turn on the Disney Channel, since that has been our routine every morning since I can remember. I went into her room to clean up a bit and sobbed. (I may have hugged her jammies and cried so hard that I hiccuped.) I was not at all prepared for how much I would miss her, and how much that feeling would hurt and tug at me for the entire morning.

I busied myself with emailing friends and family about how she did in the morning, and just when I thought I was done crying, I would start all over again. I got out the journal that I keep for Big I (I keep one for each of my daughters) and wrote her a letter about how proud I am of her and how much I was missing her.

And when Lil C still wasn’t awake, I pulled out the size 12 month clothing that Lil C will be wearing before I know it and cried some more. It seems like only yesterday, Big I was wearing those outfits and now. . .

As lunch time neared, I got anxious to pick her up. My only thoughts were that I hoped to see her emerge from her first day with a grin from ear to ear. I wanted her to tell me how much she loved it, and how much fun she had.

Instead, I saw my little girl with a troubled look on her face. When she saw us, she hugged us like we’ve never been hugged before. "How did she do?" my husband asked her teacher quietly. "She did fine," she said. "There are some kids who were traumatized in there; she was not one of them." She then told us that Big I was worried about her stuff. She didn’t want to leave things in her desk; she wanted to take them with her.

As Big I was getting in the car, she bumped her head on the door and the waterworks started. The head bump turned into "I’m tired," which turned into "It stinks. I don’t want to go back," which turned into "We didn’t have any fun. We just had to sit and be quiet all day," etc. etc. etc.

This was my worst fear.

We got home and I helped Big I change into what she calls "normal clothes". While helping her, she collapsed onto my lap and hugged me and just cried. She said, "I just missed you so much." I could only hold back so long. I erupted into tears myself and told her that I missed her SO MUCH. I told her that it will get better. I told her that each day she’ll be more familiar with the routine and it will get easier. I told her that she’ll stop missing me so much and start wishing she could be around her friends more. I told her that we will both adjust and get used to our new lives. She told me that the teacher read them a book about Mommy’s and each student made a heart craft to give to their parents. She said that the teacher told them they could hug their heart to feel close to their Mommy’s if they needed to. Big I told me she did a lot of hugging of her heart. She said making that craft made her miss me more.

Everyone always talks about how "exciting" the first day of school is, but I am here to tell you that it is a lot harder than anyone ever tells you it’s going to be. It is a cutting of the cord that you just can’t even fathom until it happens. No matter how you might have longed for a moment or two to yourself, nothing prepares you for the emptiness you feel when they are suddenly not there for all those hours, when your "job" has suddenly been given to someone else for part of the day.

It is so emotional that it becomes physical. It hurts like hell.

Big I doesn’t go back to school until Tuesday next week. I am hoping that when she goes to the library, art class, music class and gym, she starts to see school in a more positive light. I am hoping that she makes some great friends; and that her teacher will show her some of the love that I do at home. I am hoping, above all else, that this cut cord heals for both of us in a timely matter.