The Heartbreak Kid

This morning started out like most school mornings. I woke up shortly after 7 in Ollie's room {a story for another day}, found my Buby quietly organizing stuffed animals on his bed, lifted Bleu's shade, approached her with great care.


She's hardly a morning person, my girl, but I'm always proud of how she works through it. She reluctantly rolled over, laughed at my goofball-ness, even offered up a few Bear hugs, went to the bathroom, brushed her teeth, got dressed, ate breakfast. We were out of the house at 8:20, and she was in good spirits. In fact, she skipped all the way to school. The whole block and a half.


Then a combination of things happened that usually don't. Once we turned the corner her brother ran ahead. There was no Ms. P. at the top of the steps where I drop her each day. Eventually Ms. A. came out, but that's Buby's teacher and she's not in Bleu's circle of trust yet. I walked up the first few steps and said "love ya" and turned to go. She quick did a 180 and buried her head in my leg. "I don't want to go to school today," she panicked. Her squeeze tight, her voice cracking.


It's not like she's never said that before. Two other mornings since September {one being this past Tuesday after six days off} she has put up a minor fuss about leaving my side. But when we reach the steps she bucks up and walks in with her head high. No tears. Ever.


Ms. P. heard us on the steps and ran out. Just then Bleu turned and saw her best friend Ella walking toward the school, crying. I don't know who saw who first, but they both fell into a sea of tears. Ms. P. grabbed Bleu just as she was trying to follow me back down the stairs. I threw out another "love ya" and walked away. I felt myself cry.


Guys, I totally botched this one, and you could see it from a mile away. Six years in, and I have zero experience leaving a crying child. I expected this to happen many times during Bleu's first year of preschool, but I thought when it did I would be super strong. The kind of strong you only get from birthing three children. But today I was melting in uncertainty. My heart told me to grab her, run home and snuggle her and the babes 'til it was time to pick up Buby at 3.


In these occasional wars between heart + head, my heart usually reins supreme. Mama instincts run so deep. But today--at drop-off-- I had to be smart. Bleu is a creature of consistency. Bleu has school tomorrow and every school day after that, so my head said to follow procedure. To be loving, to be quick, to keep my wits. The teachers have it.


I walked home slightly broken hearted, fed Ollie breakfast and then checked in with the director via email. She wrote back that my girl was OK. She'd walked her upstairs where Ms. M. took over and asked, "What can I do to help you?" Bleu responded, "Can I trace my name?" {fyi: Bleu is on a name-writing kick.} She settled right into her work and I'm told skipped into Spanish class a short while later. Ms. P. took the time to reassure me and even sent two shots with her iPhone. I bet that doesn't happen at every school.


Today I have a whole new appreciation for all the moms who lovingly hand over their children even {and especially} when they are experiencing a brief bout of cling or moment of sadness. It 'aint easy to do when AP is all you know.


P.S. I returned at 11:30 pickup to find a smiley faced Bleu. Two guesses where we went!