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Rochester Local

Heartbreak Before Eight, Five Days A Week

toddler holding toy

He claws for me with a purple face, “Mama, mama, mammmma!” then holds his breath, I hold mine too. Every time I close that door behind me, I gulp down fresh air. There should be some relief, but it will take a few hours for me to feel this heartbreak a little less. This heartwrenching morning routine has been my new normal for the last six weeks.

I leave half of my heart in that classroom and know I’m taking half of his out the door with me. As Fritz has gotten older, leaving him each morning has gotten harder. Every night my skin prickles with the thought of having to do it all over again the morning.

Fritz started daycare when he was just shy of four months. The first drop off was hard; I cried the entire way home. Then it got easy. In the car seat, out the door, unbuckle, quick kiss, handover, and move on. We switched from an in-home daycare to a lovely school this summer, and it threw us both into an emotionally challenging few weeks of change.

Change isn’t easy, regardless of your age. Fritz and I were both struggling, and I wondered if it would ever get more comfortable. Was working, at a job I love and value, really worth it?

I’ve never once contemplated being a stay at home mom before these heartbreaking dropoffs, but they were breaking me. I tried telling myself, “we can do hard things,” “this too shall pass,” and that this was good for him, but I was having a hard time taking my advice. Since mantras weren’t working, I tried pep talks for both of us. I would turn on some Drake (don’t judge me) and tell Fritz we were going to dance until riding in the car to school. We ran around the kitchen, both laughing and not thinking about a tearful departure in less than twenty. Some days this worked and somedays as soon as he hit his car seat, I could see the sadness in his eyes. In Fritz’s defense, I don’t think it was sadness about going to school, but rather about being constrained.

We’ve been doing drop off for over a month now and some days are good, and some days I want to lay on the colorful classroom rug with him and commiserate. The last few weeks, I’ve been giving Fritz something to carry into school to distract him. Sometimes my keys, sometimes my sunglasses, and every Monday he brings his clean blanket inside. I’ve also realized he does much better with dropoff if he is walking versus me carrying him in. He seems to focus on not falling and is maybe a little winded that by the time I sign him in and hand him off, his screaming is down to a whimper.

His teachers have assured me that as soon as I’m out of eyesight, he is fine. I hope he knows how much I miss him. How I’m a little jealous of parents of middle schoolers that can text their kids to check in during the day and that every email I send, client I chat with and project I work on is for him. I work hard so we can live this beautiful life that we do and even though I do it with a bit of a broken heart I’m very happy doing it.

I’ve been told that kids do not get easier, things just change as they get older and going from dropping of an infant to a toddler every morning has proven that to be true.

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