Ignorance Is Bliss
Yes, Internet, we all survived our first day of daycare.
And then we came home and had RICE CEREAL. BIG TIMES, y’all!
This morning was infinitely easier. There wasn’t so much crap to drag out to the car, I didn’t feel like I was figna’ vomick (or “fixin’ to vomit,” for all you readers who are not CFoST and therefore not familiar with this term), and I did not shed ONE SINGLE SOLITARY TEAR when we dropped her off and left her in the Center Director’s arms.
And then I felt like a terrible mother for NOT crying. Sigh.
I called the center exactly once to check up on her at 9:37am. I was told that she went down for a nap at 8:15 and had just woken up smiling. “MY DAUGHTER IS A FUCKING DAYCARE CHAMP!” I wanted to scream into the phone, but instead I just said thanks and hung up and felt SO INCREDIBLY RELIEVED that she was happy. The rest of the morning flew by, and I didn’t feel guilty at all.
Then we went to visit at lunchtime. The door to the infant room was closed, and when we quietly pushed it open we saw Sadie being rocked to sleep. When the caregiver saw us, she stopped rocking and Sadie opened her eyes and started wailing. Red face, crocodile tears, the whole bit.
I took her in my arms and she stopped crying. Brad got a smile out of her. I nursed her and she kept going for comfort long after she got her fill. Brad rocked her and sang his funny little songs. But pretty soon we had to leave, and we handed her back over to the caregiver, who was also tending to two other crabby little shorties. Sadie didn’t immediately start to cry, but we ran out of there as fast as we could so that if she started wailing, we wouldn’t hear her.
This afternoon has been infinitely more difficult for Brad and I than the morning was – even though I’m SURE she was fussing in the morning, we just didn’t witness it or know about it, therefore we couldn’t worry about it. So here’s my question: do you think these lunchtime visits are doing more harm than good? I love seeing her in the middle of the day and being able to feed and comfort her, but is it just making it harder for her to adjust? And harder for us to adjust? What do you think? ADVISE ME, O GREAT INTERNET!
In other news, Sadie fingerpainted in daycare this morning, and I had to resist the urge to snatch up that half-dried, paint-slathered piece of paper and put it in the fucking Smithsonian, THAT IS HOW PROUD I WAS.
Clearly the face of an ARTISTIC GENIUS.
Entry filed under: Gobble-gobble.