The party is over.
Vivian started daycare this week, albeit a shortened schedule. She ate, slept, cooed and displayed her general sunny disposition without any gross signs of maladaptation. I on the otherhand, not so much. I must have been in denial because I didn't realize she was starting until the day before. I sent her off to daycare with tears in my eyes and a sleeve of Ella's old size four diapers...opps. Although intellectually it was much easier this time around as we know and trust her providers, it was just as sad leaving her in the arms of another caregiver. My brain and heart are engaged in a heated debate leaving me feeling thoroughly screwed with.
Brain: You're teaching her she can trust others. You are opening her world to new experiences. You are sending her to a classroom that was designed for optimal infant development.
Heart: I like being the center of her universe. I don't want her to forget about me. I hate saying goodbye. And by the way, did you see the snot hanging off of that kid Lily?
Brain: Relax, your kid's going to have a rockin immune system.
Heart: Go to hell.
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