This morning was different. I heard my alarm nagging me. I got on up instead of hitting snooze so many times, that now I am late and rushing while giving everyone crossing my path hateful glares. I knew today was the first day of Preschool for me. No. I didn't attend preschool but my sweet little Sue was going and I was dreading it.
I went to this same preschool. I knew my baby would be more than take care of. I still had some crazy fear that I was going to drop off a baby and pick up an independent toddler. We get ready for this next milestone to begin. Harper gets a nice blow out and we get dressed for success. We pack her lunch and her new little book bag, and I made sure she did not grab a bag of ibuprofen. (For you who get this ibuprofen joke, you know it's funny and I never know when I am going to start paying for my raising! Bless my momma's heart and soul. I just know I will pay for my raising and when it comes, I hope I can still laugh at myself and guide Harper to do better than me.)
We get to preschool and Harper is fine. She is being nosey, just like her mom. She is scoping out the toys, teachers, and other little kids. She is fine! She is cool, calm, and collected. She lets go of my hand and walks away to go play. I sneak out of the room. As the door closes, I get these weird drops of moisture from my eyes. Tears I presume.
In that moment, I know that time has got to be still and that I have got to start slowing down and soaking it all in before it runs quickly through my hands and is gone.
As the day goes on I catch myself checking the clock. Texting a teacher. Checking and checking my phone for some kind of update. I was almost relieved when a teacher texted me and told me Harp was upset at nap time. She wanted her momma. I could not wait to pick her up. When I got to the playground, I could hear that sweet voice yelling momma. All was right again.
My irrational fear of my child growing up in a day at preschool, was just that, irrational. She still needed me and she was still excited to go with me. Instead of rushing around, I'm going to pump the brakes and start soaking it all in before 18 years have passed and I feel like my Harper grew up in the blink of an eye. We both survived our first day of preschool.
Tomorrow's goal is to slow down the rush and avoid those weird drops of moisture from my eye when I walk my little baby into her room. I know when I get to pick her up in the afternoon, she will still need me and she will still run and yell, "Mommmmaaaa."
