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Fumbling Toward Motherhood by Stephanie McCarty The not-so-long goodbye Recently, my daughter and first-born child turned three. With this latest birthday came a common 3-year-old rite of passage – preschool. I’d thought often about what her first day of preschool would be like. I envisioned a teary child, reluctant to let go of mommy and an even more distraught mommy who might have to be pried out of the room by teachers. I had spent the weeks leading up to this preparing her for the “big day.” She received her own Dora the Explorer backpack and Sesame Street lunch box, which she excitedly packed with fake food from her play kitchen to practice taking her lunch. The week before, I took her to get a new haircut, new shoes and new play clothes for school (even though anything new would likely be stained with mud, paint or who knows what else before the end of the first day). By the time the morning of the first day arrived, she was ready to go. She jumped out of bed early and willingly ate her breakfast (much earlier than normal) before reluctantly agreeing to change out of her pajamas so we could get out the door in time. I was ready with camera in hand to capture this momentous occasion. But like a movie star being stalked by the paparazzi she declared, “No pictures mommy, I don’t want anyone to see.” I quickly snapped a few but they were not the posed smiling images I had hoped for. The drive to school was a short one – down just one main street through two traffic lights and one school zone. My daughter took in the passing traffic, and noticed the school buses, (which prompted her to ask why she didn’t get to ride the bus to school). As I nervously pulled into the parking lot, the realization set in that in a short time I would be leaving my sweet, precious baby with complete strangers – for the first time ever. My little girl excitedly climbed out of the car, and crossed the parking lot pulling her Dora bag proudly behind her. We soon signed in and the school’s director led us upstairs to her preschool classroom. A welcome sign greeted my daughter on the door and she bounded inside to join the other kids. Ready to start her day, she passed up snack time and ran to explore her new surroundings. Her teacher suggested we show her around the room, so I helped her put lunchbox and backpack in her new cubby while she staked out what to play with first. No sooner had I placed her pink windbreaker on the hook than I heard my daughter say, “Mommy, just go now.” My heart sank down to my toes. Embarrassed, I glanced at her teacher, gave my daughter a quick hug and kiss and said my goodbyes. This was not how I had expected this to go at all. By the time I reached the door to the classroom, my daughter was already playing with gusto. As I walked the steps back down to the front entrance, I realized I was no longer needed. Well, not in the same way my baby girl had once needed me. We had spent so much time together – and she had often fussed when I left the room, or went out to run a quick errand while leaving her with a friend. But now, she was ready and I wasn’t sure where that left me. On my way out, I filled out some unfinished paperwork and was in and out in record time – less than 15 minutes. Luckily, I had planned ahead to keep myself busy for the next four hours until it was time to pick her up. I leisurely ate a bagel and coffee at the local café (the first uninterrupted breakfast I’d had in three years), called two girlfriends, went to the bank, did some shopping and even got the car washed. I soon realized how much more productive running errands could be without a three-year-old in tow. I returned to the school almost 20 minutes early, in case she was missing me too much, but as I got out of the car, I was more nervous than ever. Earlier, I’d been afraid to leave for fear that it would break both of our hearts. Now, I was worried about my own heartbreak, afraid that she would not want to come home with me. Thankfully, my fears were quickly assuaged. As I walked into the room, my daughter sat contentedly playing with a puzzle, and a huge smile crept over her face when she saw me. The teacher confirmed that she’d had a good first day - and wasn’t sad at all. I was happy she was adjusting so quickly. But I’ve never been so glad to hear her say, “Mommy, mommy” in my life. Stephanie McCarty, is a freelance writer and public relations consultant. Stephanie worked in PR and media relations full-time for more than a decade, before starting her own writing and consulting career. She grew up in Florida, where she earned her B.A. in English (Creative Writing) from The Florida State University. Stephanie has lived in various parts of the country, including Washington DC, where she earned an M.A. in Political Management from The George Washington University. While in DC, she worked as a press secretary on Capitol Hill, and in the public affairs departments of a national public relations agency, a large university, and a major corporation. She has also served as spokesperson for two political campaigns. Stephanie says, "During my professional tenure, I have worked on political campaigns, in the halls of Congress, and in corporate PR – but nothing could have prepared me for the roller-coaster ride that is motherhood." Stephanie lives in Central Ohio with her husband and daughter, who is the joy of her life. She credits her little girl with inspiring her to find her true writing passion. For more information, please contact her at stephanie@fumblingtowardmotherhood.com and visit her website, www.fumblingtowardmotherhood.com.
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