While in the pick-up line, waiting anxiously for our children, one mom in front of me began a conversation with a mom behind me (might I excuse myself from your sandwich? thanks.)
"Are you ok?" she sniffled. "I was a mess. I looked for you earlier but I was really distracted. (Child's name) was so great. She went right on in without a tear!"
The other mom chuckled, switching her car keys from one hand-on-hip position to the other. "No...(chuckle)... I'm fine! I was sooo ready for this! I thought I wasn't last year but now I'm wondering why I waited so long!! I needed preschool!"
They laughed and began talking about some walking track and a car wash. I tuned out and veered my stroller out of their conversation.
And I thought to myself, I'm not either of those feelings. I'm not boo-hoo-ing uncontrollably at the classroom drop-off, rocking in the fetal position in a dark corner of the bathroom right next door but I'm also not throwing a thank-you-for-this-moment-of-freedom pass-me-a-margarita-and-some-menopause party either.
I'm sad that Conner is growing up. I'm happy he's getting quality peer time in a structured and loving environment. I miss him helping me with laundry and dishes most mornings. I'm a bit ellated that I don't find partially melted dinosaurs in my dryer and rocks in my dishwasher after he's "helped". I think I am going to actually enjoy and take advantage of getting stuff DONE so that my free time when he IS home the other 3 days a week is WITH HIM and not my to-do list.
Yes, I'm also upset that I don't know exactly what he's doing and if he's said something new and hilarious or whether he's picked apple or grape juice that day. But, I've got to suck it up and except my new reality. It's good for all of us.
And although I can't be there to hold his hand or make sure he doesn't pee on the floor, I know if I coax him just right, I'll be able to decipher what he's learned that day.
That he sang his ABC's.
That he colored with "brown and yellow".
That he picked "apple ju-juice".
Sigh. And I might just tear up writing this and try to prep myself for Chase's turn. After that, I guess you can sign me up for one of those menopause parties....