Today I Will Practice Patience

Months ago, I agonized over choosing a preschool for Abbey.  Using an evaluation scale involving recommendations, observations from classroom visits, pros and cons lists, and sheer instinct, a system more complex than the current gymnastics scoring system for the Olympics, Ryan and I finally decided on a school we felt would work for her and for Dylan in a couple of years.

Five minutes after we dropped her off the first day, I doubted our choice, worrying out loud over coffee with a friend, our younger boys playing happily, but a little aimlessly, confused without their ever-present older siblings.

I fretted to friends on the phone, quietly talked to Ryan about it at night, hurriedly whispered my concerns to my mother as Abbey and Dylan ran around on the mall playground, thankfully oblivious to my overactive dramatic gene, the one I thought I retired at sixteen.

I would have poured out my troubles to the mailman, who seems like a kind man, but Abbey was listening, and the one thing I worried about more than if I had made a mistake was that she would hear me talking about it.

Because I have chosen my friends wisely and got lucky in the family department, every person listened calmly, withheld their admonishments of my particular brand of craziness, and gently reminded me to give the situation some time.

Last Sunday, Abbey cried about preschool for the first time.

She cried because it was Sunday, not Tuesday, and she hadn’t been to school, “…in such a long time!” and wanted to go immediately instead of waiting a few more days.

This week, Dylan, my mom, Nan, Ryan, various stuffed animals, and I have all attended school, where we’ve been asked to call her Ms. Mary, her teacher’s name.

Finally, this Tuesday, I will be able to kiss her good-bye with real enthusiasm to match her own, trusting that she is enjoying her first foray into education.

Give it time.

I have needed that reminder my whole life.

Be patient.

I battle impatience daily.

Seeing my girl excited about school, despite my worries, is another gentle shove, prompting me to take a breath and pause, to slow down.

I will close my notebook and go to bed, warding off burnout with fewer posts and resting at night so I can enjoy fall without a fog of exhaustion clouding my head.

I will buy a few pretty things that fit and make me smile, realizing I can’t remake my closet in a season, at least not without the help of a fairy clothesmother like Stacy London.

I will keep running, slowly, and keep eating birthday cake and balance it all out with smaller portions and a genuine attempt to stop fixating on a number, neither on the scale nor on the tags of my clothes.

Today, I will practice patience.

Abbey on her first day

see the name tag?

one of my concerns was that they hadn't used "Abbey"

it's been fixed

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