This year, we started something new with Chloe.

She now gets dropped off at her activities and picked up at the end as opposed to me being an active participant.

It wasn’t something I chose, it’s just what the security people are allowing.

I watch other parents and kids during that critical five minute period. I wonder if my kid claws at the door when I walk away (I know she doesn’t, she smears the words “bird poop” on the door the minute I am out of sight).

I remember how different I felt when I dropped off Hanna (age nine) vs. our third child who is now just three.

I see a difference in parents who have more than one child vs. parents with just one. They have less anxiety and too much on their plate to drag this drop-off out any longer than necessary.

I see a difference in kids who have older and/or younger siblings vs. being an only child.

I got an email from a friend the other day talking about the challenges she is having when dropping off her daughter at school and I came to realize, it’s a really critical time for parents and kids and yet such a small part of their day. Just a few short minutes can make or break it for everyone.

How can we make this transition seamless?

First I think as parents, we need to cut ourselves some slack. We can’t expect that very first time our very first born is being encouraged to try something new, away from us, in a foreign environment to go over as smoothly as in the movies.

I got thinking about a t.v. show my girls watch and how in one episode, the mother of four was dropping off her youngest at daycare for the first time and the child marched right in. The mother had a meltdown wishing for some of the emotional turmoil, screaming, crying fits she had experienced with her older kids. It made her feel needed to have her child look back and wince when she walked away. I wonder if other parents are guilty of encouraging the drama?

In some cases, it’s about personality. Others, it’s about experience and what it means in that child’s life, in that moment to be walking through the doors into a new activity.

Hanna, our first, had more anxiety than Ellie, our second, perhaps because I had anxiety too and it was written in permanent marker on my hands next to the phone number of a neighbour in case I passed out in the parking lot. Or maybe because she didn’t have the benefit of an older sibling who had tried a new activity and come away from it healthy and happy with a craft or two and maybe even a new friend.

The middle child listened with great interest about the new activity and was eager to one day be older and independent enough to try it. By the third child, they couldn’t wait to figure this whole thing out and be part of the big kid club.

I suggested to my friend to find someone in her child’s school to have over for a play date and set it up sooner rather than later. It makes things easier when the child has someone or something to look forward to seeing again.

You can talk to teachers/instructors about whether they see a good match for your child or better still, look for the parents exhibiting the least amount of crazy during the drop-off and pick-up.

I can’t tell you how much you can learn about a parent by watching them help a child put on winter gear before heading home.

If the frustrated parent is wrestling with a boot and swearing like a sailor because someone’s hat flaps aren’t sitting perfectly straight on their child’s ears, red flag. Red. Flag.

If a parent doesn’t hold the door open for a young child about to get the heavy door closed on them, red flag.

If a parent comes in while talking on their phone, texting and applying make-up without acknowledging their child, red, flag.

Last weekend at the swim meet, after sitting in a waiting area for two days in hot, humid temps pushing me to the threshold of swamp-ass crazy, I entered the change room and my nine year old was having a fit over a hat she was wearing made entirely of balloons.

In that moment, I was one of the parents you would have added to your list of, “avoid these people for play dates” and you would have been accurate in your assessment of “mentally unstable, sweat-lodger with no tolerance for balloon hat drama, unfortunate sweat stain pattern on posterior.”

Sometimes I think the kids should win Oscars for the fits they throw which appear to be entirely for the parent’s benefit.

So often I see a kid sobbing and clawing at the door for a parent but the minute the door closes (the mother is still crying) the kid is karate chopping a tower and laughing with a friend while they share a cheese string.

The good news is, it does get easier and once the child understands you are coming back and are excited to see them and talk about their activity, it will become a smoother transition for everyone.

In the meantime, what are we doing about all of this bird poop nonsense?

Chloe told her preschool teacher that “When Mommy leaves after dropping me off, she feeds the birds.”

We have no birds.

There are no words.