Oh The Tears…
Originally published at Welcome To The Dollhouse. You can comment here or there.
Originally published at Welcome To The Dollhouse. You can comment here or there.
ine, not Zara’s.
The past 24 hours have seen a lot of tears sprout from my eyes. (Wait, can tears sprout?) I spent most of Sunday holding the Little Girl, knowing that would be my last day with her before going back to work full time. There were so many things that needed to be done in the house, but I spent the day on the couch, Zara-in-my-arms, watching the fabulous Rebecca and the ridiculous Phat Girlz on cable. I only relinquished her when AdoringHusband came home from work.
Later that night, now that our infant monitor had arrived, we decided to move Zizi from the bassinet in our room to her crib. She looked so tiny lying swaddled on her mattress, that I started bawling like nobody’s business. AdoringHusband tried to convince me that this was a natural progression for our little miracle, but all I felt was that time was moving too fast and she was going to grow up before we blinked again. There was a palpable sense of loss, like babyhood was over. Yeah, I know…I’m quite the drama queen, but my heart was breaking for my little peapod.
Then this morning, it was time for day care and work. I refused to emerge from the bed. AdoringHusband, being ever-so-helpful, got her cleaned and dressed in her onesie, but I swear all I wanted to do was to grab her, head under the covers and stay there for a long, long time. But I didn’t. After much ado, we headed out the door to her school. And walking in, I was really no good.
The place was lovely, just as it was when I toured last month. The new director, a sista, welcomed me warmly. The education director, whose 10 week old was also in the infant room with Zara, greeted me kindly as well. But when I put her clothes into her cubby (Zizi has a cubby!) and settled her in with the other children, I started to lose it. Zizi, of course, was oblivious, but the teachers and aides gave me “tut-tuts,” “awws,” “we understands,” and “she’ll be fines.” They told me to call if I needed to. I drove away knowing she’d be fine, but missing her like crazy. And I cried like a baby…well one of the other babies since my baby didn’t cry at all.
I don’t know exactly what I managed to accomplish work-wise today. I missed a meeting (whoops…I was still crying after leaving Zara), did some unpacking, edited a paper and generally watched the clock until time to get my girl. At least, the tears stopped, I didn’t call, and I have recovered from the feeling that my little baby would have morphed into a teenager over the past 6 hours. I’m off to claim my girl now. I’ve made it through the first day.
(Also, I promise that my next post will be about something other than Zara. I’ve become quite the one trick pony of late. I’ll work on changing that soon.)