We had a tearless drop off at day care on Monday.
There was a little pouting. There was a lot of very serious discussion with the staff, as seen through the window as I waved my final goodbyes from the car: the Magpie would wave, turn to the staff, say something very important and then look back at me. And wave a little.
She had reached that point with Mr.Q prior to the holidays, but this was the first time that I’ve been involved in a drop off that didn’t involve a little waterworks. It really does make me feel better.
And then we came home.
Mr.Q did pick up and brought her home. He drove into the parkade moments before I did: few enough moments to see that I was right there, but too many moments for the Magpie. She saw my car, asked mama? and, when dada verified that it was indeed me, she got angst. By the time I had parked, two big, fat tears were rolling down her face while she sat in her dad’s arms, staring at the car.
Big hugs and a cuddle later, we were all good. But, in that moment when I wasn’t quite there yet, I was the Evil Parent of Abandonment. Just great. I have a title. I have a co-conspirator in Mr.Q [though I suspect, as the sidekick can, he may turn on me and be seen to be the side of good] and I have minions in the daycare. Now I just need an emblem and catch phrase. Or signature wave bye-bye. Yeah, that’d do…
Because sometimes, it is what it is, and acceptance is the only way to go.