Independence Day

Last Sunday was a red letter day for our household.  Oscar went to nursery by himself for the first time.  He was 24 months and 11 days old.

In fairness to Oscar, he didn't start going to nursery until he was 21 months old.  I kept him out for his sake--I read that 18 months is the peak time for separation anxiety, and he had that in spades; and for mine--I didn't want him bringing home germs during the holidays, a time when we were doing quite a bit of traveling (which turned out to be rather insightful, seeing as he has been sick five times in the last three months).

After the first class, where he hung back a bit, checking it out, Oscar loved nursery.  Absolutely LOVED it.  As long as his valet was in attendance.  For the whole class.  I was urged by the leaders and other parents to sneak out while he wasn't looking.  I could see how well that was working out for the other parents.  They were being retrieved every twenty minutes (if they were lucky) when their kid figured out they had disappeared.  Besides, Oscar is hyper aware.  He would know if I left in sixty seconds.  I did try it once.  When they came and got me in three minutes (the leaders give it a couple of minutes to see if the kid will stop crying) I had to follow Oscar around while he clutched my finger for the rest of that class.  He considered it a breach of trust and later punished me.

After that, I followed my original instinct--to kowtow to his every need and whim.  I asked him a few times if I could go to my class.  He gave me an unequivocal "no."  We discussed that when he was two, he would be old enough to go by himself.  He nodded solemnly in agreement, but I had my doubts.  I was imagining myself attending high school with him, perhaps carrying his books, or suggesting a prom date.  But sure enough, the first Sunday after he was two (that he was well enough to go) I told him that he needed to go by himself today, that I would pick him up afterward, and that he could choose a special chocolate from the special chocolate box after church if he went by himself (good tip, Grandma H!).  He said in his panicky voice  "Noo, noo!!"  Then immediately "Bye," and turned to the toys.  I walked away in disbelief, then realized, to my chagrin, that I had forgotten to leave his sippy cup.  I went back in, and gave it to him, feigning cheerfulness and confidence.  He didn't bat an eye.  He returned to the toys.  When I came to pick him up after relief society, he didn't even notice me standing there for three minutes, he was so engrossed with a puzzle (so much for being hyper aware).  I called his name, two or three times!  When he finally saw me, he jumped up and ran to me, joyfully calling out, "Mommy's back!"  Very gratifying.

I hope I haven't jinxed myself by writing this.