My sweet Molly is more of an observer than a jump-right-in kind of gal. At playdates, she takes it all in, sometimes not leaving my side for 20 minutes before committing to an activity. As her mother, I walk the line of wanting her to dive right in and being proud that she makes a decision before acting. She’s also a very sensitive soul…a sharp voice (or loud bark), seeing an unexpected face, or a little tug of the hair from a playmate can open the flood gates. When I first realized that Molly was quick to cry, I wanted her to toughen up. She’s just going through a phase, everyone said. She’s so calm and sweet, everyone else said. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that maybe I wanted her to toughen up because I see a part of me in her – the part that cries at commercials, news stories, happy news, big and small disappointments, and when the wind changes directions. I’ve spent the greater part of my life trying not to cry at the little things, at least not in public. But as I’ve gotten older and more aware of myself, I’ve realized that that’s just who I am. I always recover from disappointments and anger quicker than it takes my face to become less red and swollen. And at least I can’t be accused of not feeling anything, or of not sharing my feelings. I mean, I can’t help but share them through my quivering lip and red, teary eyes.
So while I try not to pick Molly up every time she pulls a chair over on her or soothe her every time she is startled, I don’t mind the crying as much anymore. I recognize it as who she is – someone who is sensitive and will hopefully be sensitive towards others’ needs and feelings as she grows.
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Last week, the fall semester started but Molly’s preschool hadn’t, so for three weeks we’re depending on the kindness of family and friends (and complete strangers, if need be) to take care of Molly while I’m teaching. She cried every morning last week when I left the house {I bet you didn’t expect that!} and was perfectly fine every day when I came home. I would usually text the sitter/friend/my mom when I got to the stop sign and most mornings, she had already stopped crying by then. However, today, Molly couldn’t be bothered to even acknowledge that I was leaving, much less be upset about it. While I was glad that she was content and happy, I thought it would have been nice of her to at least let me hug her good-bye.
Guess who was crying at the stop sign today?
Molly, what a great realization your mom has come to in such a short amount of time. I know you are going to be just as thoughtful, kind and sensitive as your mom – all the things that make her a great friend (and sister!).
Just think. You’re raising a very trusting little girl. That’s not a bad thing. If she didn’t trust you to leave her with “good people”, then she wouldn’t have let you leave her today.
Virginia is very independent and knows no strangers, which is kind of scary. She starts preschool in a few weeks, and I’m fully expecting her not to even let me walk her to her classroom. I can picture her now, waving bye-bye to me after I unbuckle her from the carseat and then running into her classroom leaving me in the dust. It’s so bittersweet to watch them grow up.