As a new school year approaches, I find myself surrounded by the sweet scent of fresh crayons. This year marks a significant milestone; my eldest child, my little star, is embarking on her kindergarten adventure. It’s a time filled with mixed emotions for me.
My daughter, whom I affectionately call Twinkle, is a lively and spirited child. Her vibrant personality often brings me joy, but it also presents its challenges. I remember when she was a baby, I couldn’t leave her at the gym daycare for more than 15 minutes without her crying and desperately trying to cling to me. I spent more time wrestling with my yoga pants than actually exercising. Daily, I received calls to come retrieve my distressed child. Eventually, I canceled my gym membership and promised myself I’d return to the treadmill once she started preschool.
Time flew by, and before I knew it, the day to enroll her in preschool arrived. After 821 days of being her primary caregiver, I desperately craved a break. I planned to spend her first day at school in the library, anticipating the inevitable call to return to her classroom and comfort her. During our drive, I excitedly talked about the fun she would have with new toys and friends, even if she didn’t fully grasp my words. I needed her to enjoy this day.
As I snapped her photo outside the school, a lump formed in my throat. I hoped she wouldn’t cry for long and would calm down quickly. More than anything, I wanted her first day to be a success. I didn’t allow myself to dwell on the fact that this was her first big step away from me.
Surprisingly, she didn’t cry at drop-off. In fact, I had to chase her into the classroom for a goodbye kiss! My anxiety and guilt faded as I witnessed her excitement. Two days without my 2-year-old turned into three days without my 3-year-old, and soon, I started browsing job boards, dreaming of a return to the professional world, complete with real office chairs and quiet lunches. The challenges of motherhood felt overwhelming, and each day became a survival exercise.
There were countless moments I found myself wishing for just five minutes of peace amidst the chaos. My 3-year-old’s sass was relentless, and I often had to remind myself that yelling wouldn’t help. Instead, I would retreat to my closet, scream silently, and long for a shower without an audience.
Eventually, I realized my mother had misled me. She promised that age 4 would bring angels, but it turned out to be just as challenging as age 3. Daily battles ensued over clothing choices, and I found myself negotiating over shoes that were too tight or too loose. It was exhausting.
More hours than I care to admit were spent letting her watch endless episodes of her favorite shows on Netflix while I scoured job listings for freelance opportunities. I longed for adult conversations and mealtimes without the mess of chicken nuggets and sticky fingers.
I was critical of friends who hesitated to send their children to all-day kindergarten, boasting about how much my daughter loved preschool. However, deep down, I was eager for a full day of productivity.
Then, just like that, I found myself registering my vivacious little girl for kindergarten. Once again, I felt that familiar lump in my throat. What if she didn’t cry at all? What if I couldn’t catch her for a final farewell kiss? This precious being I had nurtured for 1,898 days was taking another step away from me. I couldn’t help but reminisce about those jam-smeared kisses and regret those Netflix marathons. I knew I had to cherish these last few weeks of having her all to myself.
This experience is a blend of heartbreak, joy, and anxiety. As I prepare to drop her off on that first day, I can only hope to hold back my tears and savor every moment.
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Summary
As my daughter embarks on her kindergarten journey, I reflect on the bittersweet nature of motherhood, balancing joy and nostalgia while preparing for this new chapter in our lives.