Though I'd been a ball of anxiety all weekend, that quickly gave way to nausea as the family car headed to school this beautiful Tuesday morning.
The school had recommended a number of tips to ensure that the first "drop-off" goes well, including a good breakfast, a organized, unrushed, peaceful morning, and happy talk about school on the ride in. I did all of this.
Of greatest importance, O and I picked out her clothes the night before to ensure the one battle I can always count on was avoided. And everything went great.
Except the nausea part.
My husband and I (with little man in tow) walked her into her classroom, helped her locate her cubby and stow away her overpriced Pottery Barn Kids backpack (feel free to make fun of that little extravagance....I refuse to apologize), and reintroduced her to her teacher.
Leave it to the professionals to have a well-laid out table of vibrant Play-doh and cookie cutters (something NO kid can resist) to distract from the disappearing parents. Our own little O barely deigned us with a goodbye kiss as she scooted into her seat and went about the business of sculpting.
Don't get sick. Don't get sick.....It'll frighten the children (and probably resemble the Play-D0h).
I slowly found my way to the exit, clutching my stomach and trying not to notice the sprinkle of kids who would not be fooled by the Play Doh.
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. I thought I'd be fighting back tears, not tummy spasms.
Making it to the car was a small miracle, and making it the three hours without picking up the phone was a big one.
Oh, and she did great; can't wait to go back....and "earned" the Star Student of the Day recognition.
And I earned a cocktail for tonight, with a twist of tums.
I'm 32, a dad, and I am not a douchebag...
6 years ago