Today was the first day of 1st grade for Arden and the first day of preschool for Alex. A day of mixed emotions where I was a little sad to see my girls growing up so fast and let’s be honest, I was also a little elated knowing that I would finally be getting a small piece of my pre-kid life back. Where I could spend the day writing in the comfort of my boxer shorts and not having to pee in the woods behind my office so as not to disturb Alex and her sometimes nanny’s playtime rhythm upstairs. I’d been dreaming of this moment for quite some time. A year to be exact. Back when Arden had her first day of elementary school and Alex had her first day of…preschool.
That’s right, last year Alex also had her first day of preschool, but it didn’t turn out that well. I had to leave her in tears and when I picked her up later that day she was still in tears. She finished the first week off the same way she started, but by the end of that first week we realized she hadn’t peed in 42 hours so we rushed her to the urologist who told us that Alex had one of three possible problems. 1) She had a defective bladder and would have to be catheterized for life. 2) She had a neurological defect that was preventing her from urinating or 3) She had a tumor on her spine. He said most likely it was number one, which was ironically the worst scenario because if she had a neurological defect or a tumor we could at least fix the problem. That’s when the self-loathing began because deep down inside you’re hating yourself for privately hoping your child has a neurological defect or a tumor. Fortunately after putting Alex under general anesthesia for an exploratory procedure we found out Alex had option 4 – a big fat bladder. And there was nothing wrong with her. To comfort us the doctor did say, “The good news is that Alex will have a social advantage in school because she’ll never miss a conversation because she has to pee.” Yes, very comforting doctor. Personally I thought the good news is that Alex was fine. The even better news was that the next day she was done with diapers, but we decided, maybe we should keep Alex out of school until next fall.
So here we are, a year later. Arden went off to 1st grade this morning without a hitch (and by without a hitch I mean that she got assigned a classroom that had not one of her friends in it and a new teacher who didn’t bother setting up the classroom) and Alex walked into preschool with a newfound confidence, ready to take on the world of finger paints and Duck Duck Goose, without her Daddy.
However, there was another little girl at Alex’s preschool, crying her eyes out for her father who had just left. She was terrified of all the teachers in their blue aprons and saw me and said, “Please hold me, please.” I looked around, thinking she’s gotta mean someone else, but she meant me. I tried to help calm her down, tried to introduce her to Alex, but she was busy riding a trike across the playground. The little girl looked so sad and all the teachers were busy with other first day introductions. So what else could I do? I scooped her up and she put her head on my shoulder and wiped her snot on my sleeve, and within a few minutes she was calm and ready to start her first day. And as I walked out of school, I felt a little less elated about my newfound freedom and a little bit sadder that my girls are growing up.
