Let’s just say, the word perfect didn’t come into play this morning.
Right off the bat, the morning was off. Charlotte woke up about 45 minutes early and was a bit cranky/sleepy/VERY clingy with mommy. Breakfast was a cluster. She picked the cheese off the top of her quiche and refused any other part of it. She wouldn’t drink more than 1/2 of her veggie shake. She took three sips of milk and was done.
Finally, I broke down and gave her cereal. I was desperate for her to eat something to help her make it through the day today. She ate it… kind of.
Marky was supposed to join me for the first drop off, but because he’s amazing and was busy slaving in the kitchen (prepping dinner for tonight), he wasn’t able to make it.
So Charlie and I headed off on our way. She whined on and off the whole way to school, which is totally out of character.
When we got into the classroom, she stood frozen in the doorway, staring blankly. Finally, after a good 5 minutes, that lower lip puckered and some tears came. I called her name and she came running towards me, arms wide open.
The teacher called Charlotte and another kid over to show them a big bag of puppets she just received. Charlotte reluctantly watched as we showed her all sorts of puppets. She was on the edge.
FINALLY, the ice melted a bit when the other teacher brought over a bucket of dominos and corks and an empty juice container. C immediately jumped in and started taking the corks from one container and putting them into the empty juice container.
This was my time to exit. I looked at my little buns and said goodbye and told her I’d see her in a little bit. She stared and stared and stared… and then the lip puckered out and the tears began.
Her teacher told me not to worry and said they would handle it.
I walked out of the room. Tears welling up in my own eyes.
The administrator stopped me on my way out. She told me that C’s tears are her way of asking a question.
“Mom, is this okay?”
Immediately, I started feeling guilty for not turning back to her when she started crying and reassuring her that I would be back and that she’d be great. Instead, I just left.
The administrator peeked in at C and let me know that she was already tearlessly playing.
I left, got in my car, called Mark and started bawling.
I’m not talking about tearing up. I’m talking full-on, unable-to-speak-through-heavy-sobs crying. Of course, once I got enough words out to let Mark know that everything was technically okay, he started laughing at me.
I knew (know) that she’ll be great and that it’s so good for her to go to school, but for some reason, it felt so overwhelming. I can’t even pinpoint what specifically was so overwhelming. I definitely had guilt about not turning back to her when she started crying… but I had felt teary before that.
Thankfully, I received a text from Charlotte’s teacher before I had even gotten to work telling me that she was doing well. She also sent a cute little picture of Charlotte playing with the classroom play kitchen.