No, that's not Norah.
The big one started preschool today.
I’m extremely nervous.
Norah is a highly-sensitive child. She’s exhibited the classic signs of extreme sensitivity ever since she was very little. She’s a sweet, charming, funny little girl, but she does NOT do well with change. Of any kind. Routine is her friend, and breaks in routine are grounds for high anxiety, physical symptoms (stomachache, nausea), and copious amounts of tears. Loud noises startle her. (Witness her early battles with the coffee grinder) And let’s not even begin to discuss the separation anxiety.
On Sunday nights she spends the night at her maternal grandparents’ house. For about a year when she turned three she got into this routine of having to cry whenever Grandmama came to pick her up. She’d wail as though her heart was being torn out of her chest until she was in the car. Half a block down the road, she’d stop, and was fine the rest of the evening. But it was the leaving that was the hardest part (eat your heart out, Tom Petty).
Once she comes out of her shell, she’s fine. She’s a bit of a wallflower, but that’s fine too. But it’s one reason why I pushed so hard to get her into preschool — she needs that social interaction experience before she gets into that dog-eat-girl world of Kindergarten. If she presently can’t go to the Sunday church playroom without tears, Kindergarten will leave her catatonic.
So Rachel dropped her off about an hour ago. And by “dropped her off” I mean pulled-to-the-curb-and-a-teacher-took-her-out-of-the-carseat. There were histrionics. Tummy-aches. Much wailing and gnashing of teeth.
And that was just me.
I want the best for my daughter, but I’m sure I’m not the first one to angst over putting my children in situations where they feel uncomfortable.
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Just to let you know, I am Miss Martha, Norah’s teacher and yes also her Great Aunt. Yes, Norah came into preschool crying, carrying a little stuffed seal. But as we sat in circle time and our new friend Charlie Monkey appeared out of his bag, Norah’s eyes got big, the tears went away and she was great the rest of the day. You see, Charlie didn’t want to come out of his bag because he was scared too, but miraculously he was healed of his fear and so was Norah!!! Isn’t preschool great?! Later as Norah was painting at the easel with purple and pink paint we talked together and she said “I love to paint. I’m not scared anymore.” It was a wonderful day. Let’s see how Friday goes. So relax Dusty and Rachel, it’s going to be ok. Let’s take it a day at a time. Love you Miss Martha
You just made my eyes well up a bit.
We ALL need a Miss Martha some days.
Maybe Dusty needs Charlie Monkey, too:) Glad you AND Norah survived!