In two short weeks, my daughter is turning 5.
She’ll be starting kindergarten in the fall, making friends and learning all sorts of new things…but not from me.

My ex-husband has agreed to let me put her in school up here in the northern part of the state. For once, there was no screaming and fighting to get him to make the obviously necessary decision. All it took was a slight push in the right direction.

This is going to be the start of a brand new chapter in her life, and also in mine. I won’t lie and say that I’m not scared shitless. I am. I’m scared to be in charge of her education. I’m scared that I won’t be able to help teach her the things she needs to know. I’m scared she won’t make friends. I’m scared she won’t like her teacher. I’m scared that the other kids will be mean to her. I’m scared that she’ll make friends that she wants to be around more than she wants to be around me. I’m scared she’ll get embarrassed. I’m scared she’ll have trouble reading or doing math. I’m scared that she’ll get sick at school. I’m scared she’ll get hurt at school. I’m scared she’ll be mean to another kid. I’m scared she won’t make the right friends.I’m scared she’ll get a crush on a boy. I’m scared she’ll get a crush on a girl. I’m scared she won’t fit in if I make her lunch, but I’m scared she won’t eat lunch if I don’t make it. I’m scared the other kids will make fun of her.

I’m scared because I know all of these things and more will happen and there’s nothing I can do about it.
I never thought I’d have to do this alone, but I do.
I always knew I’d fall apart like this when the time came, somehow I never thought I’d have to do this alone. I thought things would have worked themselves out by this time.
They didn’t.
I’m diving in headfirst. I’m a terrible swimmer, but nobody is going to carry me. I guess it’s time I learned.

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