It wasn’t something I downloaded. There were no electronic gadgets involved, only a pen and paper. On it, I wrote down Z’s name, her birthday. I circled eight adjectives that Husband and I thought best described her. I listed contact information. I attached a check.
It’s not the kind of app for your iPhone (I typed “eye-phone” at first, sheesh).
It’s The Preschool Application. And soon after her third birthday, I will upload my daughter into the car, drive her across town, unfasten the connection (aka the umbilical cord) and download her into the preschool parking lot. My feelings about this are already mixed, but I will admit I am mostly happy. When Z goes to preschool in the mornings, I will have an empty nest.
Well, not exactly. I plan to do some work, maybe tutoring, maybe freelance editing, we’ll see. Maybe I’ll be unable to work because I’ll be crying my eyes out from missing my daughter’s companionship. Don’t laugh, it’s entirely possible. Negotiating the terms of our relationship is never straightforward, and my reactions (and hers) are often surprising.
Happily or not, we are about to embark on a very different era. One in which I don’t know every exact detail of every moment of her day. Strange, sad, and somewhat liberating.