Daycare

I have no way to express the feelings I'm having about M being in day care. On the one hand, I have the supreme guilt when I drop him off. This is reinforced by M having a total meltdown when I try to put him down once we reach C's house. Who knew my child was part Monkey. I had no idea he had these climbing skills. He can scale me from the floor to my shoulder in 2 seconds flat if I'm trying to get him to go down so I can leave. I have to do the drop and run as I listen to him wail all the way to my car. C promises me that he only cries for a minute or two. I have to believe her.

The flip side of this is the joy of being by myself. Even if it is only for 5 minutes on the way to the office. It's 5 minutes of me time. There's no one else in the car, I can sing, I can scream, I can simply enjoy the quiet. It is freeing. It's needed. I have forgotten myself. I have forgotten what it's like to have moments thinking of nothing but myself. There is no worrying about what my son needs/wants. There is no cleaning or worrying about what the house looks like before my other half gets home. I'm not trying to figure out what I'm going to make for dinner or what's going to be packed in to everyone's lunches. There is no pressure from anyone else in those moments between daycare and the office. It's just me and even though it's only been 2 days, they have been very clear moments.

So, here's my M story for the day. C, the woman who runs the daycare he goes to, is amazing. Yesterday was an art day and he came home with a lovely finger painted picture with his hand prints on it. He also gets to come home every day with a paper that tells me everything he did for the day What he ate, how long he napped and what they did/played. Yesterday his paper said that Micah put the baby doll in a high chair and fed her crackers during lunch. He also got to watch Sesame Street because it's his favorite. Today his sheet said that it was dress up day and M was a pink butterfly and he was beautiful. He was beautiful. When I walked in to pick him up he came running in head to toe pink. Pink slippers, pink full body suit, big pink butterfly wings. His little daycare buddy was wearing a lovely purple full body tutu and he looked just as lovely. Apparently C had let them pick what they wanted from the dress up box and this was the result.

My first question (obviously) was whether or not she had pictures. Because, really, when am I ever going to see my son dressed up as a little pink butterfly? My second question was how the heck to get it off. He was quite determined to leave it on. We did eventually convince him to take it off. I wouldn't have minded taking a pink butterfly home but I wasn't sure I'd ever get it off him once we were home.

So, his day was full. He was happy when I picked him up. He is napping with no fuss while he is there and he is eating well. Oh, and he's learning new words which means he obviously respects/likes C because, although he is a talker, he is not a talker around people he doesn't like. I guess that I can suck it up in the mornings and recognize the drama for what it is. As long as he continues to be a happy little boy when I pick him up not much else matters.