From preschool pickup to college drop-off, this part hasn’t changed.
I remember holding my breath all morning after preschool drop-off.
Was she crying?
Did he pee his pants again?
Would she talk during snack time or just sit there frozen?
Everyone told me I’d feel relieved once they started school. That I’d get to use those few hours to run errands, fold laundry or grab coffee with a friend.
But once I finally dropped them off, the physical chaos of kids underfoot was replaced by a constant loop in my head:
Was this a “good day?”
Were they okay?
Did their teacher see them? Like them?
Would they make friends? Would I?
If you’ve ever stood at pickup, watching for your kid to burst through that door, and instead of scooping them up, you found yourself asking:
“Did you cry?”
“Did you raise your hand?”
“Did you play with anyone?”
I say this as someone who’s been on both sides — a preschool teacher and a mom of three (now all big kids). You’re not the only one.
While you are busy trying to track their emotional safety and grasping at some tiny straw that you aren’t totally screwing this up, you’re not seeing that many, many parents around you are doing the exact same thing.
Here’s something that will help ease your mind:
Children are not meant to show up to school already knowing what to do and how to do it.
Preschoolers don’t come to school to perform; they come to learn how to be part of a community. They are there to play, explore and learn how to be at school. That is the curriculum. And if we keep labeling their day “good” or “bad” based on whether they cried, raised their hand or played with someone new, we’re missing the point.
And now, years later, with a middle schooler, a high schooler and a college freshman, I’m still unlearning it.
They’re not supposed to already know how to do it. They’re supposed to be learning.
How to ask for help.
How to fail a quiz and not turn it into a crisis.
How to go to practice with cramps and an empty water bottle and still show up for your teammates.
I still catch myself wanting the “good day” report. I still want the kind that’s easy to explain and sounds good in a text to my husband. But that’s not really the stuff that counts in the long run. The real stuff is messier and doesn’t look like much from the outside. I am learning to recognize “they didn’t panic when they forgot their science folder” as a win.
So let’s reframe a few things:
They didn’t cry at drop-off = good.
They did cry, expressed emotion and trusted their teacher to comfort them = also good.
They tried something new = good.
They repeated a familiar activity because it felt safe and familiar = also good.
They participated in circle time = good.
They took their time, observed and took it all in = also good.
If you’re looking for progress, look for the emotional wins.
Kids are not supposed to know how to manage it all. Instead, we want them to learn how to not know and still be okay. Maybe a “good” day isn’t one where everything went smoothly. Maybe it’s one where they felt safe enough to struggle, to ask for help, to start over. And maybe our job as parents is not to measure how easy they made it look, but how brave they were for showing up at all.
I hope this doesn’t just change how you think about their school days. I hope it changes how you’re going to greet them at pickup tomorrow.
Lizzie Assa is a parenting strategist, play expert, and founder of The Workspace for Children. A mom of three in Marblehead, she writes one of Substack’s top 50 parenting newsletters. Her upcoming book, “But I’m Bored,” explores independent play as a path to raising confident, resilient kids.
