One morning, Sammy's preschool called and said they had an opening in a morning class--which would work a lot better for us than her current afternoon class--so I said I would take it. Immediately after I said yes to the switch I was plagued with doubt. What if Sammy had trouble making new friends because I switched her mid-year? What if she missed her friends and teacher in her old class? Would it be possible for me to switch her back to her afternoon class if the morning class didn't work out? What if I was scarring her for life because of my choice?
Sammy's one worry was which door she would go out for recess in her new class.
Sometimes we needlessly put our worries and fears on other people. I think this is especially true for parents, because we naturally see reflections of ourselves in our kids. For example, my challenge over the years has been to be a more social person and connect with people, so all my worries for Sam were centered around that. I pictured Sammy as a lonely shrinking violet standing up against the wall,
but that's not who she is at preschool. It sounds like her first day in the new class went more like this:
Carpe Diem!
When I picked Sammy up after school, I asked about her new teacher. "How was Miss Kelli?" Sam nonchalantly replied, "She was great!" I asked if she liked the kids in her class. Sammy informed me that she did, and that the boys were her friends, as well as someone named mmhAm. (Sometimes I have no idea what she's saying.) Then she informed me that the next time she went to preschool I didn't have to walk her inside. So yes, I worried needlessly and my fears were groundless. Sammy will have her own set of challenges in life, but they may be totally unrelated to my challenges. She is not me.
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