My oldest is a super social kid. He typically has multiple playmates following him around, playing whatever ridiculous game he concocts, at every playground he goes to. He’s only three, so everything might change, but at this point he seems like the leader type. It is essential that I get this kid on the straight and narrow so he doesn’t lead other kids into crazy town.
I thought preschool was going to be a breeze. I thought he would cry when I picked him up and beg to go more. This kid has pleaded to go to school for the last year. He has been dropped off in multiple settings, without a problem, for a long time. I’m the mom who throws my sweet lovely newborn in the wonderful nursery at church at week three. You want to snuggle a baby? Deal. I want an hour without someone touching me. Call if he needs to eat.
Because I must have been due for my weekly dose of humility, Grayson threw me a total curve ball and preschool drop off has been awful. Do I know this is normal? Yes. Do I care? No. It sucks. Having someone peel your kid off your leg while they scream for you and look like they are getting kidnapped by the boogie man, is just freaking awful. When I go check on him 10 minutes later he is playing with the other kids, but he seems so timid and reserved for him. This may not actually be reality. It could just be the one way glass and my heart broken lenses I’m looking through.
Logically I know he is fine and this is a transition. My PMS queen is reigning high this week and that B won’t move out of the thrown of my emotions. I cried the entire car ride home last Tuesday.
Sunday rolled around and we had a rough morning. Lots of time outs and lots of snuggles. He kept crying that he didn’t want to go to church. I honestly didn’t have one more emotional hand off in me. So he came into big church with me…which was fine during the music but rough immediately following as sitting still or being quiet aren't really his strong suits. So I grabbed Asher and we all left early. I was pretty much ready for the day to be over at 10 am.
Being inside with my children on a hard parenting day is the pits. So we went to a new park. I tried to forget the small fact that we live in Chicago and soon this park thing will be a season of the past. While I was not in a headspace to meet God at church, I was able to meet Him here.
It was September 11 and the Salvation Army was putting on a multilingual church service in the Ampi Theater next to the park. You could hear all the music while I chased around my two buggers who just needed a morning with their mom. The weather was perfect, and all the kids G played with got along so well. It was 2 hours of redemption that I so desperately needed.
I’ve been so hungry for a morning with my mom. For someone to process all this preschool crap with. Grief sneaks in when you least expect it three years out. After I sobbed about the drop off last Tuesday I just continued my sob fest about the fact that my mom isn't here.
I’m hoping this weekend can again be redemptive and fill my capacity for preschool drop off back up. Monday Grayson bit someone (which is the first time he has since he was 1, so that’s awesome). Tuesday we did the peel off. Wednesday he stayed begrudgingly without sobbing. So Asher swept in and screamed for a solid 10 minutes about leaving his brother and the toy trains and tried to jump out of my arms while I wrestled him out of the building. So over it.
Here’s to hoping for a weekend of nurturing moments that fill up my soul and mend my heart. If anyone wants to join my support group at 9:20 Monday-Wednesday after pre school drop off, give me a holler. I’ll make mimosas and we can all keep our sunglasses on.
