This morning I dropped my 2 year old off at preschool. When we decided to enroll her in the program it was purely a decision intended to give her a positive social experience. We are fortunate enough to have family available for childcare, so the “need” component was off the table. It was simply a choice we were making as parents to provide an opportunity for her to build confidence and independence, with the thought that there might be some educational benefits sprinkled in.
The first 3 weeks were delightful. She loved talking about school and hardly gave us the time of day once we got there….skipped in and off she went.
Then something changed.
Tuesday morning, week 3… we got off the freeway on our way to school and she burst; for whatever reason she did NOT want to go to school. Her heart was broken and so was mine. Through the tears flooding her face, she sobbed, “I’m sad…need mommy’.
As any parent can attest, this was one of the most painful moments I’ve ever experienced. It was all I could do to keep driving.
For the last 3 weeks, we’ve continued the morning school routine: drive, drop, encourage, and race back to pick her up with hopes that she had a great day. We’ve done all the right things by staying positive and upbeat and ensuring her that mommy will be there with open arms at the end of the day.
As I make the daily transition from mommy to business woman this morning, this small family struggle we’ve been dealing with has me thinking a lot about my journey as an entrepreneur.
For the most part, I start my days full of energy and excitement. I am one of the fortunate few who get to work on something I am deeply passionate about. I’ve got a business partner with the same passion and an incredibly supportive ecosystem of family, friends and fellow entrepreneurs all around me. In every sense of the word, I consider myself to be extremely fortunate.
But some days are HARD.
Dealing with the overwhelming idea of getting a successful business off the ground, rejection, financial stresses….these are all things that are constantly dangling in the back of my mind. And sometimes, all I want to do is cry…straight-up sob. Can someone just swoop in, pick me up, and tell me I don’t have to go to school today?
Then, for the most part within a few minutes, I recover. Move forward. Look to the future with excitement and wonder. All things I know will soon come for my daughter and her journey through the first year of preschool.
Until then, I’ll sit here and try to focus on getting some to-do items checked off my list, try to stop staring at the clock, and try to convince myself that continuing to take her to school is the right choice.
Wish me luck!