Today at pre-pre school pick up, I arrived a few minutes early and found myself chatting with a Chic Momma. (There are some moms who manage tasteful lip color and trendy-but-appropriate clothes. There are others of us who may or may not have brushed their hair.) This particular Chic Momma said she was waiting to pick up her twins in the one-year-old class. (Apparently, some mommas can handle the lip color and baby twins, too.) Our differences went deeper than fashion, however. Our polite chitchat threw me into a parenting philosophical dilemma.
I usually pick Buzzy up a few minutes early because she used to have a rough time at the end of the school day. For the first few weeks, she'd cry for the last 10 or 15 minutes of class. It killed me to pick her up sobbing. I figured she was just tired and hungry, but those two things were within my power to fix, and I wanted to fix them. She's better now, but I still like to be one of the first moms there.
Chic Momma said that her twins were having a tough time with the separation, too. In fact, the school called her to pick them up early once before because they were so upset. "Oh, that's good," I said, thinking that if Buzzy were ever miserable enough to warrant a call, I'd darn well want to pick her up early. "I don't know," said Chic Momma. "I think they just have to cry it out. How else are they going to learn?"
Chic Momma had a cute haircut and valid point. I'm a softie. I know it--and if I had to deal with twins, I probably wouldn't have that luxury. But Buzzy's barely two, still so very young and tender despite her occasional sassiness and her amazingly absorbent mind. I don't want her to have to navigate the world without her mommy quite yet, although I'm trying to give her some room by letting her go two mornings a week. Am I nurturing, or too over-protective? How can you know? As Buzzy races towards the next big adventure, New Mommy is still taking baby steps, accompanied by a lot of self-doubt.