Ruminations on Parenting. Part # 479

BL (Before Lucas) I thought that pain was getting kicked in the nether region. Or having a fight with Chris, or getting cut while cooking or re-injuring (for the millionth time) my left ankle. These were the pinnacles of my ideas of what pain meant and what I had experienced.

All of these, from twisted ankles requiring trips to the hospital to a nut kick pale, fade into utter insignificance when compared to the pain of leaving a crying kid at the daycare.

Lucas changed groups at the daycare. Much thought was put into how this would happen. We were warned months in advance. He started spending part of the morning in their room. He knows all the kids and his fav educator hangs out with them in the morning.

So, for the first week he was like "no, I'm not a CooCoo anymore, I'm a soleil." and would walk right past his old room.

Then suddenly everything changed. This happened when he started at the daycare as well. Fine for a bit, then about two weeks of hell.

Anyway, the last week has been hell. I leave him either shrieking "Paaaapppppaaaaaa!" or just crying. I know, from talking to Marina (his fav educator) that about 10 minutes after I leave he's playing like nothing happened. But all I know is that it really takes the wind out of my sails first thing in the morning.

Especially when I'm not really feeling like going to work in the first place.

(Another thought, he's also testing his and our boundaries. So he's been crying a lot to see what happens. That said, he seems genuinely upset in the morning.)