The ritual has been going on for generations–that almost liturgical moment when young parents cut loose the lines that have tethered their child to the small harbors of their homes.
The kids call it their first days of school. The fathers call it growing up. The mothers–being more complex mortals who understand these wobbly legged little creatures erupted from their bodies only five or six years ago–have more mixed emotions. Their “babies” have suddenly entered a new crucible of life, but in order to do that they must leave the crucible in which Mother was so central all these years.
That’s tough for both of them.
We’ve been told a great deal about the indispensability of bonding in a child’s life, and it goes without saying that the earliest and best form of that mystic energy arcs between the child and its mother.
Magic without the captions! That includes the touching, the feeding, the caressing without which no newborn survives.
Now, though, the mother’s “baby” will begin bonding with others beyond the immediate neighborhood. Teachers, PE instructors, playmates, perhaps a real-life Officer Friendly or a Kris Kringle crossing guard.
Is the love for a child a mathematical sum from which certain parts can be subtracted? Are young mothers right to squeeze extra tightly at the doorway, sensing a lurking competition out there?
Not really.
September may be a letting-go time for most young mothers, but let the record show that children sent off with love return with love. Not only after the school day, but time and time again.
So relax, Mom. It’s the way this parenting thing works.
