Preschool drop off is a really interesting to me. In some ways, it's kind of like the parent version of gathering around the water cooler in an office. You come together, make small talk and sometimes wind up standing around longer than you'd intended because you've stumbled upon an interesting conversation. In other ways, it's like parent Ninja Warrior, for your challenges are many and difficult and you're probably going to end up feeling like a failure only to come back and try again, nevertheless. This can all be reflected in the texts every mom sends from preschool drop off.
I'll be honest in saying, texting during drop-off isn't going to do much when it comes to overcoming the challenges you face. Again, like Ninja Warrior, you're in this alone. However, sometimes just knowing that there's someone else "there," even if they're not physically there with us as we handle an endeavor that might feel impossible, is just what we need to keep going. Yes, a great source of comfort can and usually will be the parents dropping their children off at the same time you are. I mean, they are literally going through the exact same thing at the exact same time. However, you're both (usually) dealing with your own sh*t simultaneously, and if you take attention away from your children in order to find solidarity with others it might be more hurtful than helpful.
In the end, sometimes the best thing you can do is send a few texts to friends, partners, parents and anyone else who isn't there with you, but can be there with you. Thank you technology, and thank you to everyone and anyone who ends up receiving the following text messages:
Casual Friday (And Monday And Tuesday And Wednesday And...)
It's hard enough to get my child dressed in the morning, let alone myself. Besides, I am going to be going back to my apartment and doing some stuff around there before I come back out anyway. Surely my morning chores do not require proper pants. Indeed, proper pants would actually hinder my ability to do chores comfortably (and therefore most efficiently). Now I know there are some naysayers out there who want you to "dress like an adult" and "set a good example," but to those people I say, "What did my pajamas and I ever do to you? Leave us alone. We're tired."
I Thought We Were Being Graded On A Curve
You don't like to compare yourself to others, but oh my gosh, how does Amelia's mom do it? Her outfit is so casually stylish and, somehow, really comfy-looking. Where does she shop? Can Amelia's mom take me shopping? Or are these clothes hand-sewn by magical elves? Come to think of it, what is Amelia's mom's actual name? Hell, I have no idea. That would probably be a good first step in getting her to reveal her sartorial secrets to me. Anyway, Amelia's mom's effortlessly chic, breezy look is really making you side with the people who say pajamas need to stay at home.
I'm Pretty Sure This Was Foretold In The Book Of Revelation
Children will choose the most inconvenient, embarrassing time to throw a tantrum, and they do not make exceptions for school days. While it isn't always a struggle (though for some people it is), your child will keep you on your toes by having meltdowns at the very moment they need to get it together to get to school.
Casual Monday-Friday Is In Her Blood, Too
When, if not in childhood, are you going to go to an obligation looking like an actual lunatic and feel totally awesome about it? I mean, this is as much, "I really don't want to fight with you about this" as it is, "Go. Let me live vicariously through you, because that flower garland is awesome."
Everyone, at some point, is going to forget something. Even though it's really not a big deal, it will feel like a huuuuuuuuuuge deal. Snack, a project, money for a field trip, whatever it is, it'll happen. Take comfort in knowing that your forgetting doesn't say anything about you other than the fact that you are busy and you forgot, but you will remedy the situation and all will be well.
Give Me The Most Permanent Marker You Have
That pre-school is a black hole from which no shirts, gloves, socks, hats, or jackets ever return. And the "Lost and Found" is always packed to the gills, yet no one, it seems, can ever find their kid's stuff. Despite the fact that I know I am just never going to see some of my child's item's ever again, I have taken to labeling everything, just in case.
My Child The Barnacle
We have all been there. Even if your child is usually outgoing, bubbly, and mild-mannered, that does not exempt them from the possibility that they will act as though their sunny, cheerful classroom is actually a nightmarish hellscape from whence they shall never return. While this usually happens when they first start, or get back from a long break it's not always. My kid, who was always blessedly very "go with the flow" about heading into his classroom, had a random week last spring where he flipped out every morning. He even tried to escape once so, you know, that was fun.
My Child The Secessionist
Then there's the opposite problem. Like "Um, hi. It's me. Your mother. Remember when you lived inside me? Listen, I'm happy your eager, but maybe we can temper all this big grown up independence with just a hint that you still need me..."
Trust, you don't want my cookies anyway. This is a win-win for literally everyone involved.
Sometimes getting your kid out your door and into their school's door is a damn ordeal, and it's time to treat yo self. You're also probably feeling good about the fact that, by hook or by crook, you managed to do it yet again, so you want to share your good fortune with your friends and/or co-workers.
Angels Walk Among Us
Because you just have to get one of them through the door and they need to keep, like, 10 of them inside of it. Hat's off to all y'all. What can I get you fine people from Starbucks?