I haven't posted in a week and I don't have any pictures today. I know.
I knew it would be hard, but I don't think I understood just how much. Or, rather, I was in a state of blissful denial for a long time.
It feels like, if I don't write about it, it won't be real.
The girls have now had two days in their day care center.
I am nothing short of heartbroken.
I also know how lucky I have been to have been home with these babies for as long as I have.
These girls have been my sidekicks, my constant companions for nearly two years.
We have left them only twice with people who are not related to them (really just Nana and Papa). For one of those, their family was still around while the two neighbor girls took care of them at 4th of July. For the other, they were asleep the entire time. And now, we are leaving them for the majority of their waking hours with people whose last names we don't know.
Honestly, just as predicted, they seem to be handling it much better than we are. The first day we were there, we didn't leave, but let the girls hang out for a bit while we went to loiter by the front desk. A few minutes later, we watched their troup come down the hall, all holding onto a rope. Lillian was in the front of the line, happily holding the rope with one hand and waving to everyone in the hall with the other. Naomi was being carried by the teacher's assistant.
Naomi's been a little fussier in general about the whole operation. We had originally intended to break them in slowly, hanging out with them at first, then leaving for an hour or two, maybe staying for lunch on the third day. After talking with the director, we realized that only creates more transitions and difficulty for them. Maybe it would have made us feel better, but it would have been unfair to the girls. And we've seen it already in the two days. If we linger or come back into the room, Naomi attaches herself to us and cries when we leave. If we just _go_, she's fine.
This afternoon and evening, we made sure to have good quality time with the girls. We read and tickled and played with wet sand. We went for a walk around the block and brushed our teeth for a long, long time. They were so tired by bedtime, Lillian was asking for sleep using the sign (close your hand in front of your face, drop your head and close your eyes). This wasn't different from any other day we've had, but William and I were soaking it in in a way that we might not remember to all of the time.
I know I can't take for granted the time I have with our girls.
I know I can't wait for next summer.
4 comments:
crying
Me, too. - Pat
Me, three. - Pam F.
Aw, it will get better! I took Noah back to the sitter this week, and it was a joy to see him light up to see his friends and have so much to tell me about when he got home. And it was nice to have some adult time, reading a book without needing to stop every two paragraphs and not thinking once about poop. It didn't feel like that at first, but after a while I have come to see that his life is richer for having more people love him than just us. Not saying that to minimize your pain, but to hopefully give you some faith that this will become a *good* thing. Not just an "oh I guess I have to use a sitter at least it doesn't totally suck" thing, but a *good* thing that you are glad to give your child and yourself!
I bet your girls are loving all the fun stuff at the center, and once the transition is over I bet you will love having some uninterrupted hours to get back into the things you used to enjoy.
I just realized that I, and you, are the only ones using sitters, and I suddenly feel dreadfully self-conscious. I hope I don't sound like a terrible mother, singing the praises of a sitter!
Oh well. It's the truth. My truth, at least. I'm eternally grateful to our sitter for loving Noah as much as she does, and for allowing me to earn a living and give him a secure and happy childhood.
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