Photo Friday: drop off
Well, folks, it finally happened.
Spawn has joined the ranks of the drop-off kids.
I'd been talking it up for a few weeks, waiting for the kid to make the decision instead of me pushing it, because who am I to push a kid who isn't ready to let go of mommy's hand? Well, the mommy, that's who I am.
But I knew the time was coming, since so many of Spawn's classmates were drop-off kids, bounding out of their mothers' minivans without so much as a look back, and frankly, I'm just like any other parent who wants her kid to be on par, developmentally, with the other kids. I also was getting pretty tired of the park-walk in-walk back-drive away dance that I was subjected to every morning. When Spawn started requesting a kiss on the cheek and no further public demonstration of affection, I knew that my baby was taking a few more independent steps away from me. And because I want my kid to be independent, I was glad to see it.
The first couple of days of drop-off were uneventful, even a relief; to be able to pull into the circle drive and have my kid hop out of the car with a quick peck on the cheek signaled to me that by not pushing the issue I had avoided making a bigger deal out of it than it had to be. And I got to work on time -- no speeding required (and thus no tickets). Glory hallelujah!
The third day of drop-off, I took a different route to go to the gym. Instead of turning left out onto the street, I turned right, which took me past the front entrance of the school. I looked as I went by and saw Spawn standing in the lobby of the school, looking around as if unsure of which way to go.
The sight of my baby standing there with a backpack, looking left to right, deciding... well, my friends, it clutched up my heart. For a fleeting moment the urge hit me to go into the school and point the way, to make sure that Spawn got to the right place.
But my baby doesn't need to be walked into school anymore. It's one more thing that ol' mom has outlived her usefulness for.
All of Spawn's milestones have been met with rejoicing around here. The first words, the first steps, self-feeding, potty training, self-dressing, shoe tying, no training wheels... I've celebrated everything that Spawn has learned to do alone. Because I know it's necessary to do these things for yourself. Some of these things have been great milestones to move past -- if I never change another poopy diaper in my life that is fine with me. Others have been a bit bittersweet -- to have my child rub lotion on my winter-dry-and-itchy back was a sweet reward for all of those times I spent rubbing lotion all over a tiny baby body. Sometimes Spawn gives back when I least expect it.
It's hard to realize that every day that goes by my kid is learning the things that every kid should learn in order to become an independent person. I try so hard to not hold the kid back. And what's hard about that is when I'm not ready and Spawn is, and I have to have that internal fight with myself to let the kid go and do and be.
Spawn has joined the ranks of the drop-off kids.
I'd been talking it up for a few weeks, waiting for the kid to make the decision instead of me pushing it, because who am I to push a kid who isn't ready to let go of mommy's hand? Well, the mommy, that's who I am.
But I knew the time was coming, since so many of Spawn's classmates were drop-off kids, bounding out of their mothers' minivans without so much as a look back, and frankly, I'm just like any other parent who wants her kid to be on par, developmentally, with the other kids. I also was getting pretty tired of the park-walk in-walk back-drive away dance that I was subjected to every morning. When Spawn started requesting a kiss on the cheek and no further public demonstration of affection, I knew that my baby was taking a few more independent steps away from me. And because I want my kid to be independent, I was glad to see it.
The first couple of days of drop-off were uneventful, even a relief; to be able to pull into the circle drive and have my kid hop out of the car with a quick peck on the cheek signaled to me that by not pushing the issue I had avoided making a bigger deal out of it than it had to be. And I got to work on time -- no speeding required (and thus no tickets). Glory hallelujah!
The third day of drop-off, I took a different route to go to the gym. Instead of turning left out onto the street, I turned right, which took me past the front entrance of the school. I looked as I went by and saw Spawn standing in the lobby of the school, looking around as if unsure of which way to go.
The sight of my baby standing there with a backpack, looking left to right, deciding... well, my friends, it clutched up my heart. For a fleeting moment the urge hit me to go into the school and point the way, to make sure that Spawn got to the right place.
But my baby doesn't need to be walked into school anymore. It's one more thing that ol' mom has outlived her usefulness for.
All of Spawn's milestones have been met with rejoicing around here. The first words, the first steps, self-feeding, potty training, self-dressing, shoe tying, no training wheels... I've celebrated everything that Spawn has learned to do alone. Because I know it's necessary to do these things for yourself. Some of these things have been great milestones to move past -- if I never change another poopy diaper in my life that is fine with me. Others have been a bit bittersweet -- to have my child rub lotion on my winter-dry-and-itchy back was a sweet reward for all of those times I spent rubbing lotion all over a tiny baby body. Sometimes Spawn gives back when I least expect it.
It's hard to realize that every day that goes by my kid is learning the things that every kid should learn in order to become an independent person. I try so hard to not hold the kid back. And what's hard about that is when I'm not ready and Spawn is, and I have to have that internal fight with myself to let the kid go and do and be.
A mother's heart is a strange place sometimes.
-- Mox
-- Mox
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