Someone Should’ve Told Me…

Yesterday, my husband came across video of my daughter during her first few months of life, and I was overwhelmed with emotion as I watched it. The memories of that time came flooding back, and I realized how much she has grown. Now that she is three I often think of the things I wish someone would have told me about parenthood. When I dropped my daughter off at school today I was reminded of a very important "someone should've told me" moment…the first day of school. I was under the impression that the first day of school blues referred to the first day of kindergarten - the special day when you watch your now six year old walk into the halls of elementary school, with their backpack and lunch kit, ready to face the world. I thought, looking into the future, that this would be the most difficult day for me, but little did I know, the first day of school blues starts with the first day of DAYCARE. Someone should've told me.

I remember my daughter's first day of daycare like this:

I had prepared myself for the last four months to hand my child over to "the school". Finding a school was not easy, and convincing myself that I was ready was not a piece of cake either. I remember spending the night before the first day packing her bag, and going over the hand written instructions I would present to her new teacher. (Type A people!) I was able to rest that night knowing that I had sufficiently prepared for the next day – the handoff. The morning came, and I got her dressed. I told my boss I would be late just in case things went haywire. I packed her into the car, she was so unsuspecting, and began the short drive to her new school. We arrived and entered her new class ready to greet the teacher, and she was not there. The lady I had spoke to and told my every concern and need was not there. I started to panic. I sat my daughter down as they told me the teacher would be out today. How could she be out on our first day? I tried to unpack my daughter's things and prepare for departure, but as I was getting everything organized in her new space I realized I forgot something – the pacifier. OH NO! This was a bad sign. She had to have her pacifier. I knew for sure this was a bad idea. I couldn't leave my child. I just couldn't do it. The very nice lady at the school probably assumed I was losing it because at that moment I announced I had forgotten the pacifier and I would have to take my daughter back home to get it. The teacher looked at me with concern and offered to keep my daughter at school until I returned with the pacifier. I told her that was not a good idea and I wanted to take her with me. So right then I did an about-face with my daughter in hand and bolted through the door back into the comfort of my car. I left everything at the school except my child, and I was not confident of my return. I just knew I had to get out of there. I felt the walls closing in. I had no teacher, no pacifier, and no guts. I sped out of the parking lot of the school with tears in my eyes. I had no hope of being able to complete this transaction. (NOTE: My daughter is completely clueless and enjoying the ride.) While I drove towards home with a goal of retrieving the pacifier, I called my mother. I remember my exact words, "Why didn't you tell me it would be THIS hard." Tears were streaming down my face at this time, and all I remember my mother saying is that I needed to pull over and I should not drive in my condition. I pulled over into the middle school parking lot by my house and got it all out. I cried and tried to explain what happened, as not to completely terrify my mother who was across town. I am sure if she could have teleported herself to my location she would have done so. My mother's words in response to my question were, "I could not have told you how hard it was going to be. You were going to have to experience it for yourself." Her words comforted me, and I was somewhat pleased that I was not the only one who had this type of experience. At that point I collected myself, returned home, retrieved the pacifier, and returned to the school. When I returned the very nice lady no longer had a concerned look on her face, yet she had the "It's her first time" caring look on her face. (I am sure someone filled her in after I ran out with the child.)

I had done it. I successfully dropped my daughter off for her first day of daycare.

Now the rest of the day, if told by my co-workers, was not good. I arrived at work with my sunglasses on, and I asked them not to talk to me much. It was a hard day.

Looking back three years later, I learned a lot from the process. Here are the things I wish someone would have told me.

1. It WILL be hard handing your child off for the first time – not just hard - REALLY HARD.
   
2. You will make it…it will take about two weeks…but you will make it.
   
3. It is normal that you feel this way, and you are not the only one.
   

Here is something I am glad my mom told me…you will have to experience it for yourself. She was 100% right. Words could not have prepared me for the experience of the first day of daycare, and I am not sure I would have believed it was going to be that bad. I am sure of one thing…the first day of kindergarten will be BAD too, and I am ok with that. It's natural.