Christina Currie: On their own |

Christina Currie: On their own

Christina M. Currie

Five days into the school year and I’m already whipped.

How do parents do this? I kept track yesterday and found I’ll be driving 24 miles a day picking up and dropping off children.

And that’s just preschool and kindergarten.

I don’t dare complain out loud. If I even think about it, I find I’m standing next to SuperMom — you know, the one with a minivan who boasts an always-cold cooler permanently stocked with fruit juices and healthy snacks.

Seems as though everyone I talk to has it worse than I do. Just wait until they get older is something I’ve heard more than once.

As I understand it, counting miles makes me a novice. You turn pro when you’re counting nights spent on the road.

Still, I’m showing the strain. I stopped for a cup of coffee, waited for it to be made, paid for it, grabbed my change and left.

It took only 15 minutes to realize I left the coffee. It was an hour before I could find the time to go back and get it.

Still, I love that my girls are in school, though there was some first-day confusion when I was supposed to be at two places at once.

I did what any good parent does — let Nikki ditch preschool.

I’m hoping she won’t remember.

It couldn’t be helped. I couldn’t be in two places, and there was no way I was going to let someone else take my baby to her first day of school.

As much as I swore I would not succumb to the stereotypical hysterics, I was a little afraid I might break down and embarrass myself.

Fat chance.

I got in the drop-and-go line at kindergarten. I barely got a kiss before Katie was whisked off into her classroom.

I can’t exactly say she was looking over her shoulder sobbing, either. And airy “bye Mom” and nary a glance back is what my first born subjected me to.

Nikki didn’t help restore my ego as a parent.

I helped her hang her jacket and backpack and sign in. Then she told me to go to work.

In a case like that, I pretend that I really misheard her and just wait.

Then she told me to go home.

That, unfortunately, was clear as a bell.

I didn’t want them sobbing and clinging to my leg, but really, would a fierce hug and a whispered “I’ll miss you, Mommy” hurt?

It’s been like that since.

My two girls are on their own now — bravely facing new experiences and growing in their independence.

Now that makes me want to cry.

Then again, last night I woke with Katie standing by my bed. I didn’t have to say a word. I just lifted the covers and she slid in and snuggled close.

She just needed to be with her mom.

Christina M. Currie can be reached at 824-7031, ext. 210 or ccurrie@craigdailypress.

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