all I need is love

Faithful readers will recall that Bubba has adjusted extremely well to preschool. True, he only goes twice a week for three hours a day, but that's about all his mama could handle. When he's away at school, I look out the window in my bedroom/home office and wonder how much fun he's having without me.

Clearly a lot. Ever since he started school, I've become That Downer Lady. I go to pick him up and he looks at me with disdain, even, dare I say, repulsion. I am not the mommy he calls for in the morning or that he jumps up to hug, but That Lady who is taking him away from his friends and locking him in the car, against his will. I look around the room and all the other three year olds run gleefully into their parents' arms, shrieking and yelling, "MOMMY! MOMMY!," as if they've been apart for ten years.

WTH?

I appreciate and value Bubba's independence but I could use a little PDA. While he's ignoring me, I fantasize that the next time I pick him up, he will throw down his truck, race across the room and fling himself (gently, of course) onto my midsection. I will carry him outside while he smothers me with kisses and clings fervently to my neck, softly declaring, "Woman, you are the only one for me."

Then reality sinks in. I walk into his classroom, squat down awkwardly, whisper, "Magnus, time to go," and try to get him to hold my hand. The first day of school he burst into tears when I did this. The second day he shook his head vigorously and clenched his fists. The third day he screamed, "Nooooooo!" so loudly that I suspect the other parents thought I was not his guardian but some fat lady who was trying to kidnap him.

Today he just sighed but he did slip his little mitt into mine, then turned to say good-bye to his teacher. A huge wave of relief washed over me. We walked out to the car laughing and having a merry old time. Just like the other families! I was enthralled.

Then it happened. As soon as I opened the door for him to climb into his car seat, something snapped. He stopped and then let out a series of wails that could be heard in Texas.

Well, I can always dream.