First day freak out

Oh, my little sweet Emily. She has always been my cuddly, clingy girl. The exact opposite of Ethan. Now, Ethan loves hugs and cuddles but he doesn't need me around for anything. He has always been that way too. Interesting how two of your own kids, from the same DNA, can be so different in temperament. Emily needs me to hold her, comfort her, love her all the time. So with her first day of 'special time' quickly approaching, I had a feeling she would be a little scared about being left alone even though she had been to the same school every time we dropped and picked up Ethan last year. My fears came true today. Just like Ethan, Emily has been talking about school constantly. She has been saying, "Emimy schoo" (translation = Emily school) since I took her to Back-to-School Night at the YWCA. This morning she was ecstatic when I told her today would be her first day of school; she even cheered. As soon as she was ready, she grabbed her backpack and headed for the door. The whole morning, I had been talking up school - how great it is, how much fun she would have, and that Mommies and Daddies don't go to school too. Of course, while we were at home and driving in the car, she seemed to get all this and thought it was funny when I asked her if Mommy got to go to school too. She looked at me, laughing, and in her mocking way said, "No Mommy. Emimy schoo." As we approached the YWCA, Emily even pointed out the building and was almost giddy. As soon as her seat belt was undone, she jumped out of her seat and started grabbing her things for school. I picked her up out of the car and carried her toward the door, and as we got closer, she said, "Emimy walk." So I put her down and let her make her way down the hallway to the classroom. After a couple of diversions (the drinking fountain and going into the wrong classroom), she waltzed right in and started playing. I had to get her attention to show her where to put her belongings. She really didn't want anything to do with me and immediately started playing with the kitchen. I thought to myself with relief, "Ah, this is going to be easy. She is so happy and busy." As Emily was busy preparing some imaginary meal, probably cookies, I told her goodbye and asked for a hug and a kiss. She came over to me and gave me a kiss. When I said goodbye again and started to walk away, she came back over to me and said, "Hug." After a quick hug, she was back to cooking and I peacefully walked out the door, shutting it behind me. I passed another parent on their way to drop off their child and stopped in the hallway to say hello to Ethan's teacher from last year. Then, all of a sudden Emily came bursting through the now open door wailing and screaming. I immediately picked her up and asked if something had happened. Such a dramatic change in only a minute! The aide assured me nothing had happened, so I took Emily back in to the room. As she clung to me for dear life, she continued to cry. I took her over to her cubbyhole and offered her the dolly she had brought from home. It provided a little comfort but Emily kept clinging. I walked her around trying to distract her with all the great toys - an Elmo doll laughing and dancing, babies the needed to be fed, trains chugging around the track - but she just clung tighter and tighter. I turned to Emily's teacher and told her that I literally didn't think I could get her off of me. Finally, after a few more minutes of trying everything, I told my crying baby girl that I simply had to leave. I pried her away and handed this hysterical child over to Ms. Liz. As I walked out of the room again, instead of peace, all I could hear was Emily screaming, yelling, flailing, and crying. Poor Emily. Poor Ms. Liz. I am sure that within minutes Emily probably calmed down and had a great day. It is just so hard to let go - for both of us.