My daughter and I have always been close. She was born ten days late, refused to enter the world without medical intervention, and has stayed by my side most of the last five years. I lovingly refer to her as my extra appendage.

Her first year of pre-school was very difficult. She went one day a week and cried the entire time she was there for most of the year. I thought about pulling her out so many times just to make her happy. Unfortunately, I really needed the break. She had not yet been diagnosed with anything, but my suspitions were growing as tensions at home mounted.

By her second year of pre-school she was better about leaving home two days a week. She had lovely teachers who knew exactly how to comfort her when she was sad. She truly enjoyed school that year.

Her third year of pre-school also went well. We carpooled with friends, and that certainly came with advantages. Rather than saying good-bye at the classroom door, we were able to part ways at home where she was comfortable. As with all four year-olds, there were a few teary moments. Most days went very well.

Now she is in kindergarten. She was so excited all summer about going to the big elementary school with her brother. Once the big day arrived, however, fear hit her like a ton of bricks. It was difficult to get her out of bed the first three days, much less convince her to walk to her classroom. Her social anxiety was at its peak.

A fifth-grade neighbor who rides to school with us volunteered to walk her to class on the fourth day of school. It worked beautifully. Now my daughter can walk the long hallway on her own and proudly presents herself to her teacher every day by saying, "Mrs. Eghwrtu, I'm here!" There should be a spotlight in the doorway to make her entrance as grand in the classroom as it is in her head.

Now we have a new separation issue - lunch time. A couple of weeks ago, we had difficulty parting after I had lunch room duty during her meal time. I hoped it was an isolated instance based on her sadness that I was leaving town for a couple of days. But today, it happened again.

She seemed to be doing just fine until the lunch period was almost over. My delicate child fell apart when she realized our time together was almost over. Explaining that I would be back in just a couple of hours to do an art project with her offered little consolation to her breaking heart. Her tiny arms wrapped around me as she sobbed, "Mommy, I love you very much."

My son never had this difficulty separating from me except on a couple of occasions when he was very small. She does quite well as long as she doesn't see me during the school day. This could become quite a problem as the year goes on, as I have quite a few PTA responsibilities that require me to be on campus.

I know we'll get through this, but it bruises my heart a little more each time there is fear or sadness in her eyes.