We have been having Some Issues with drop off recently, where Carla gets very upset as I try to leave. It breaks my heart and sets the day off on a horrible You Monster, Why Do You Put Your Kid in Daycare start, so we have been testing some strategies to see if we can nip this in the bud.

Today was Day 2 of Strategy: Lovey, wherein Carla brings a small stuffed animal to school that she can hug when she misses me. Day 1 went very well, so I have high hopes.

This morning, one of Carla’s classmates was ALSO having a rough morning. She was crying already when I entered the classroom, and as I was trying to put things in Carla’s cubby (extra shoes, lunchbox, water bottle) while simultaneously saying soothing and cheerful things to Carla, the little girl came up to me, wailing, and held her arms out for a hug.

I mean, who am I to deny a child a hug? I really, really hope that’s not out of bounds. But I think if my daughter was having a rough time and just needed a hug, I would be grateful to another mom for giving her that comfort.

Poor kiddo – a hug did not cut it. And of course, here’s Carla, saying, “That’s MY mommy.” I tried to say calmly to her, “Your friend is having a rough moment, and it’s okay for her to give me a hug” while hugging this poor child. The little girl is now trying to climb on me, she wants to be picked up, but I don’t want to cross any weird parental boundaries, and also Carla is climbing on my other side, so I say gently, “Sweetie, I can’t pick you up, I’m sorry you’re having a rough day, it’s going to be okay.”

This is totally my response to Sad Feelings, by the way, because it is the way I want to be treated when I’m sad. I soothe, I acknowledge, I offer calm reassurances. But I am not good at distracting a child from her feelings. I mean, I have LEARNED how to do that, with Carla. But it didn’t even occur to me in this situation.

Of course, my own anxiety is ramping up at the same time. I’m just trying to get Carla situated so I can leave without her dissolving into tears. Now, in the calm and quiet of my house, I feel like I should have just sat down on the floor, talked with the little girl – at the very least, asked her or Carla what her name was! – and overall been more patient with the situation. Instead, I got more and more frantic, trying to peel the crying child off of me so I can hug my daughter, who is beginning to look more and more upset.

That’s when another mom swooped in. “This isn’t your child?” she asked, and I shook my head. And she took the little girl’s hand (the child was STILL wailing, tears and snot sloshing down her face – this is my NIGHTMARE, that when I leave, Carla cries and cries and cries, rather than stopping as soon as I’m out of sight.) and said brightly, “Have you washed your hands yet? Let’s go do that and then we’ll play with your friends!”

Oh how I want to be that mom. Not only is she a fantastic dresser (today she had on this long floral dress that was breezy and summery and elegant all at once) and not only does she have a super cool haircut, but she was kind and confident and knew exactly what to do.

I barely feel confident with MY OWN child. Let’s be honest: most of the time I have no idea what I’m doing, and even when my stabs in the dark seem to work, I feel like I’m about to tumble over the edge into incompetence at any moment. And when it comes to someone else’s child? Absolutely no idea.

Babies. I can handle babies. Let me hold your baby, feed her, change her diaper. I am good at that. Big kids? Not so much.