As most of you know I am the proud parent of two wonderful girls… I love these girls and thank god regularly for them.. This year my oldest started Kindergarten and my youngest started daycare. I was so excited that I took the day off to basically cry…. And then go to the movies (smile)
The first day was finally here – I could not stop taking pictures of the oldest one - one in the house, one of her putting on her school uniform, one of her putting on her book bag. One of her getting in the car.. you get the picture. Anyway my five year old was smiling at first – enjoying every minute of the attention she was getting – until we actually got to school. I parked the car and we stood there waiting to be let in the building. Of course we were 15 minutes early. As we waited - we both noticed the other kids. The older kids were talking among themselves, the younger kids all just look confused. You could tell that everyone was excited about the first day. Especially me, I was the crazy lady with the camera, but for the record I was not alone. I asked my child to stand in front of the classroom so that I could take just one more picture. Do you know that she gave me a look and sighed “Mooom” . I was embarrassing my 5 year old – aren’t they suppose to be at least 12 before they are embarrassed by you.
“Okay, fine…” I put up my camera and behaved myself. To add insult to injury … she will not let me walk her to class. She kisses me at the end of the hallway and then waves. At that point I really wanted to cry.
Speaking of crying… that is all my youngest did her first day at the daycare – I heard her screaming as I left the building. The guilt was overwhelming. I have so many thoughts - Maybe she too young, is the nanny still available, are the teachers going to be nice to her.
Mind you – this is the same loving school that my oldest went to and still attends for afterschool. So I know the people are great. But it does not stop my heart from breaking as she screams “dada” (has not said mama, but that is another story ) at the top of her lungs . Anyway, this goes on for four days. Each day breaking my heart just a little more than the previous day. I am seriously rethinking this decision. On the fourth day- We walk into the classroom and on cue my child starts to cry. Her very smart teacher looks at her and says
“Honey, come here and sit at the table. It’s time for snack”
Do you know this child, the one that just could not bear to leave my side. Scrambled off my hip and ran to sit down. She sold me out for one cracker , not a handful , not even a really good cookie , one Ritz cracker. As she sat there eating her cracker – she waved and said bye dada… Gotta love my children.
So in a nut shell – though my children are the beginning and end of my world – I am apparently the unwanted toy. Not cool enough to be seen with the older one and I can be traded by the younger one.
You have to love mother hood
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