Yesterday morning, Nora went on her very first field trip. And I kinda had a thing about it.
It wasn’t so much the “field” part of the equation (because she’d been seeing shows at that particular theater for years), but the “trip” part? Yeah, that’s the bit that kicked me in the Feels.
Nora and I have quite a lengthy history- nearly 4.5 years, in fact- of being borderline inseparable. As my papoose while I nannied other kiddos for the first 18 months of her life, as the mini Mama while home with Susannah and now Jasper, and as the constant work companion by my side as her siblings nap. (We’re pretty much one back-to-back desk away from being detective partners.)
And while seeing her off of her first field trip wasn’t the caliber of the first preschool dropoff (which is a whole ‘nother box of tissues), it does mark the first time that I’ve left her on a school bus which was moments away from driving across town. To a place that yeah, I knew, but this time as a independently interacting little being, just one little person thinking and knowing and doing- and outside the realm of my knowledge and protection and outstretched hand.
But she was so excited.
“Quick, take the picture before my friends see.”
So I squeezed her, kissed her, and high-fived her goodbye. She absentmindedly patted my back and scanned for her friends, murmuring “Bye, Mom” to no one in particular. I watched her carefully climb the bus stairs, her hot pink floral parka and orange penguin backpack the only Little Kid giveaways to a decidedly adult action. And then that was it. She was officially fielded and tripped.
Since there was nothing left for me to do- possibly ever, I wept at myself- I turned to Susannah and Jasper. “Who wants to go eat their feelings with me?”
As it so happens, there was a McD’s right down the block from Nora’s school, so Miss Zu and I split an apple pie. (I, too, was surprised that a) pies were served at 9am and b) feelings could be eaten for quite so cheaply. 69 cents!)
We pulled back into traffic and drove by the street corner of Nora’s school- where, coincidentally, the school buses were taking a left to pass right around us. It was one of those serendipitous moments where I got to see my kid experiencing something new without her seeing me; I caught a glimpse of that pink hooded coat framing a forehead pressed to the glass. Her eyes were scanning skyward and tiny fingertips were resting on the windowsill.
Then the bus drove past and the moment was gone. She was headed to the theater and impending adulthood and that critical thing called Doing Things Without Your Mom. But I was so glad that I saw her in that bus window, even for that millisecond. It was proof that things continued on as they should and it really was all okay. Because in that lightning fast instant, I saw Nora’s face.
And she was beaming.
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