This time, it's Solanne's turn.
I dropped off both my girls at daycare this morning, leaving, for the first time, with just myself. Me, alone. It took me a while to leave; I lingered in Solanne's class, making sure her teachers knew where all her stuff was, that she was settled with a puzzle, that she knew everyone's name and where the bathroom was. Finally, knowing I had overstayed, I made Maïa give her sister a kiss, then I kissed my little Solanne good-bye. I crossed the hall with Maïa to her class. I held her for a while, lingered in her classroom, made sure she was settled, that she was okay. And she went off to play with her friends. And I was left standing there, alone and rather unneeded.
I got a call last week asking if we would like Solanne to start daycare a little earlier than our anticipated September start. How soon? Next week! Whoa. We thought about it a lot. And then I got three separate emails with three separate contracts, all needing to be done in June. I think that's what sealed the deal. On Thursday, we made our final decision and filled out the appropriate paper work.
Solanne has been talking about going to daycare for months. We told her she would be in the Yellow Room (3-year-olds) in the fall. Every morning, when we dropped off Maïa, Solanne would peek into the Yellow Room and tell me that she was going there soon. So when I told her last week that she could start going to daycare, but in the Blue Room, she was rather annoyed. No way, she was going to go to the Yellow Room. But we talked about it — really talked! I had a conversation with her about it all and that starting earlier meant going to a different class but when the summer was up, she could go to the Yellow Room with all the friends she would make in the Blue Room. And she was onboard!
While we were debating the issue, Derek and me, I felt guilty. That I would be sending my little girl (my
baby!) off to daycare and that I would be at home — working, but at home. Alone. I felt like I was betraying that motherhood oath to give up every part of me and of my time to be with my kids, at all costs. I played with Solanne more intensely and in a more involved way the latter part of last week, knowing that it was our last as a stay-at-home pair. We're starting her out slow (three mornings a week for now), but it'll never be the same. This stage of our lives is over. We're not full-time stay-at-home parents anymore, for the first time since Maïa was born. And I felt a little guilty that I didn't feel more guilty.
Because after we made our decision to let her go in earlier, I felt a kind of relief. I felt that I could finally do some work, kid-free and worry-free and guilt-free, while my kids were enjoying themselves at the daycare. And heck, if I finished up early, I could do some exercise, get my nails done, visit that new yarn shop that opened up not too far from here. I had a measure of freedom! Something I haven't had in a long time. Some "me" time, some time to be a grownup, to talk to other grownups.
So I was surprised this morning when I couldn't let them go, when I couldn't leave, when I felt utterly
alone. I'm not sad. I miss them.
But I think all of this is good because now I
can miss them. I have the option. I won't be so exhausted by their constant presence anymore; I can appreciate them more when they're around, knowing that it's finite. I'm very much looking forward to going to pick up Solanne after her lunch. I can't wait to have one of those great Solanne hugs!