Yesterday was Hazel’s first day of daycare. She’ll be ‘going to school’ 2 days a week (Tuesdays & Thursdays) from now on so that I can get more work done. We have been looking for a suitable program for her for nearly two months - our first choice was full, so we put her name on the waiting list and looked around some more. My friend who lives in town recommended our current place - she has been bringing her son there since he was 6 months old (he’s 2 1/2 now) and he loves it. Luckily for us, they were just finishing up a new, bigger building so they had room available for Hazel in the new location. We went and visited at the open house last week and Hazel excitedly played with the toys and tried to hold the bigger kids’ hands when she met them. I was left feeling bouyed by her enthusiasm and excited for all of the things I would be able to accomplish this week. The nervousness and worry didn’t kick in until the night before her first day.

Monday night as I was preparing her lunch, packing her bag, and making sure I sent enough of everything, I began to feel nervous about sending my little girl off to ’school’ for the day. Neither of us slept well that night (I was nervous, I think she was just gassy). Tuesday morning came and we gathered her things and headed out. When we walked into her ‘classroom’ (she’s in the 1-2 year-old room - so she won’t have to change rooms in less than a month), the kids looked up expectantly from their splashing at the water table. It was like a scene from a horror movie: 6 tiny kids, some with pacifiers in the mouth, all stared at us with their piercing blue eyes and straw-blonde hair (did I mention that they were all wearing only diapers, so as not to soak their clothes with the water games?). John and I had the same thought… hmmm, a tiny cult? I think our reaction to their homogeny was compounded by their inability to talk - so they stared a lot.

Anywho, Aryan children aside, the place was as nice as I remembered, so we helped Hazel get settled into an activity, gave our hugs and kisses and said our goodbyes. As John and I walked out to the car, I felt like I couldn’t leave the building fast enough - not because I was sans child for the first time in I-don’t-know-how-long, but because I was trying to hold back my tears until we got outside, lest some poor child see me crying and start a trend.

It was sad, leaving Hazel in someone else’s care for the whole day - I was on the verge of tears all morning as I tried to decide which projects to tackle first. Casey Jones (one of our kitties) wandered around aimlessly, meowing. I think he was bored without Hazel’s noise & movement to keep him on his toes. I ended up getting a lot done, but the best part of my day was when I went to pick Hazel up and she grinned at me through the glass door as I walked up to her classroom. The teachers said that Hazel had a great time and didn’t shed a single tear all day, even after we left in the morning. That was more than I could say for myself.