Bittersweet Milestones

Being a Dad is the by far the most gratifying and certainly the most significant thing I have done in my life. It has been such a daily pleasure guiding Erin through the challenges she faces as she grows and matures, from infant to toddler, toddler to adolescent. Each milestone she passes has filled me with pride and joy, but any parent can probably relate to the small element of melancholy that accompanies these same milestones. I am always delightfully excited to see her progress as she takes the next step in her development, but there always seems to be a small, gentle but inescapable sadness as well.

Last week, Erin crossed another one of these milestones. It caught Laureen and I totally by surprise. And here is how it happened:

At Trinity, all of the Kindergardners and First Graders get dropped off by their parents in the school's gymnasium at the start of the day. They line up and wait for their teachers to come down to the gym and lead them up the stairs to their classrooms. Generally speaking, the kindergarden children wait with their parents while the first graders say goodbye to their parents at the door and line up with their peers. For the first several months of the year, either Laureen or I accompanied Erin into the gym and stood next to her on line while we waited for her teacher to arrive. It was fun. It gave us an opportunity to get to know some of the other parents while at the same time allowing us to observe Erin as she interacted with the other children in her class. As soon as Erin's teacher came down the stairs, all of the Mom's and Dad's would say goodbye to their respective child and make their way out the door. Some of the kids (Erin included) would turn and wave as we departed. Some even blew their parents kisses. It was sweet. Our sweet little morning ritual.

That all changed one morning last week. Laureen was Erin into the gym, and as the reached the inner door (from the foyer/lobby area to the actual gym), Erin suddenly stopped short, nearly yanking Laur's arm out of her socket. Surprised, Laur turned to look at Erin, who then stated, "Mommy, you can stay here."

"Are you sure you don't need me wait with you until Nora gets here? (Nora is Erin's closest friend at Trinity... they went to pre-school and summer camp together)."

"No Mommy. You can stay here. I can walk in by myself." And that's what she did. She said goodbye to Mommy at the doorway and sprinted to her spot in line. When she turned to wave to Laureen, she was beaming... clearly so proud of herself for her solo entrance.

The next day was my turn to drop her off. Unbeknownst to Erin, Laureen had filled me in on her experience at the prior day's drop-off. On the ride over to the school, Erin saw fit to prepare me for the new drop-off procedures.

"Dadoo, today when we get to the school, you can just say goodbye to me at the door."

"What do you mean at the door? Are you planning to walk into the gym alone?"

"Dadoo, let me explain this to you. When we get to the school, you can walk with me to the door, but then, say goodbye without coming into the gym. I can walk in myself."

"Well, OK. But... are you sure you don't want me to come in with you and wait until your teacher comes downstairs."

"I'm sure, Dadoo. I want to walk in by myself."

Of course, when we arrived, I had to pretend that I had forgotten about our conversation in the car, and started to escort her into the gym. She literally jumped in front of me and held up both her hands like a miniature traffic cop, and said firmly "Stop right here, Dadoo. I'm going alone from here."

Smiling, I nodded and got down on one knee to give her a hug, which she returned. She gave me a big high five and ran to the line to join her peers (and their parents). At this point, one of the other Dads was walking in with his daughter, who is in Erin's class. He greeted me and asked why I was standing at the doorway.

"I've been informed I am not allowed to enter the gym at drop-off anymore."

"Oh my gosh, why is that," he asked a look of concern suddenly spread across his face. Suddenly realizing how my statement could be easily misinterpreted as the school banning me from drop-off, I quickly elaborated.

"By Erin. She told us that Laureen & I have to say goodbye to her at the door from now on."

Well, he found this to be hilariously funny. When he and his daughter joined Erin and the other parents with their children in the front of the gym, I could see him telling a story as he motioned my way and everyone had a chuckle. Even Erin's teacher got a kick out of it when she arrived to lead the kids upstairs and was filled in on what was going on. She laughed and waved to me, still watching through the window of the gym. She later joked with Laureen at pick-up about our Little Miss Independent.

And this brings me back to my point. Erin has now passed the milestone of entering school by herself. While it is exciting to see her develop that comfort level, that independence which allows her to do so, it is at the same time just a little sad, because it is one more sign in a steady progression of signs that our little girl is growing up. We couldn't be more proud!