DD started her first ‘real’ job today. It was a wild morning to say the least…She panicked over what information they requested that she might be forgetting to take (she had it all)...she tried on different outfits, fixed her hair two different ways, and has she had almost a month at home to work this all out…yeah, that’s my girl…women, we reserve the right to change our minds. She gave herself an hour and 15min. to get downtown, but got a late start because the GPS wouldn’t take the address (remember that month of being at home…hmmm). I calmed her down and made her take off and I’d talk her through it (she’d only been there once for the interview). At one point I was holding two phones up to each other (had DD on one phone and DH on the other phone), while I had Mapquest up on the computer. She made it…about 25 min. early even…and then I talked to her the whole way walking from the parking lot into work building her up for her first day. We hung up and then I teared up, as usual.

She’s my oldest so I was sitting here remembering her and my FIRST DAYS…

…of childcare…we moved to Cincinnati when she was 10 days old and I started a new job in her third week. I cried all the way from childcare to work….I also made the mistake of wearing a dark silky fabric work dress…let’s just say breastfeeding and leakage didn’t work well with that dress…that afternoon I ran back into childcare past all the parents with my arms crossed…she’d done fine, but it was so hard for me.

…of Kindergarten…she was transported to school by another childcare when we lived out near Philly. I cried after all the way to work after dropping her off that day to childcare with her new backpack and her shiny nametag pinned to her...I was so sad I wouldn’t be there to see her off and take her there. She did great…my little outgoing girl couldn’t wait to go!

…of new Schools (we’ve had 6 different homes since she was born)…

…we moved back to Columbus when DH got transferred and in the summer a few weeks after I had my youngest and I quit work. We lived with my parents for a few months while our house was finished being built. They were in a different school system, so I drove her to/from school for those months with the boys in tow. I remember taking her picture by the school the first day of fourth grade and then walking her in…I cried all the way out hoping she’d be accepted…she had a list of friends the first day and had a wonderful time.

…we moved out here near Pittsburgh (another transfer) the summer before her eighth grade. Again, we were building a house and it wasn’t finished so we temporarily moved into an apartment for nine months. It was a hard move for her because she was leaving so many friends and my family. She was really involved in many activities back in Cols., she'd been dancing competitively for years with a studio, had just made Cheerleading again, Swim Team, etc. It was hard starting over with no activities that first year and not being able to even live in our home and find new friends there. I cried and had my usual bout of ‘Mom Guilt’, but she adapted quickly and soon became involved in all kinds of new activities. She handled this last move better than I did.

…of College…I thought I was prepared for this one. We shopped all summer before. If there was a contest for the most furniture and other ‘stuff’ fitting into a tiny, shared dorm room, then she would have won. DH was convinced it wouldn’t all fit and people were actually laughing at our ‘pile’ when we unloaded (I was going to have no guilt over leaving her without everything she needed). Well, DD and I had no fears…you know me (Mary Poppins); I’d pre-measured the room and knew where it all went. While other parents were standing in line for hours at the local Wal-Mart buying longer extension cords, she and I arranged it all, hung artwork we’d made, put up cute lights and decorations…the girls on the floor were all coming in asking where we’d gotten things and ooogling. As prepared as we were I still cried the whole way out of town.

So, why should today be any different? It just doesn’t get any easier…no matter how independent they become and how many times you’ve seen them adapt well (better than you) to new situations and changes, you still worry about them. If only I could keep the three of them home and little forever. It’s just so hard to let them go.