Seamus started day care today. T had the day off from school (Rosh Hashanah), so the two of us dropped him off together. It was hard to leave him there, but he didn’t seem to mind. He was too busy shooting hoops and digging through all the new toys to be concerned about our departure. When we arrived, the director was running around like a proud papa taking pictures of all the new kids who started today (they had nine new children this month) to post on the day care’s website. (Click on new prodigies to see Shim Sham) Here are a few of the photos we took before we left:
The picture you don’t see is the one of me and T dragging an empty stroller down Broadway and crying (both of us). On the way home we stopped in a diner for coffee, and it was nice sitting there with my husband just like old times, watching the passers-by and daydreaming about the future. Then we came home took, Georgia for a walk and started doing all the chores we can’t get to when Seamus is home. When the mailman buzzed our apartment, I figured my mother had sent another package, but it turned out to be a sweet early birthday present from Rickety Rosie. What a happy surprise! She sent me some of the most beautiful vintage jewelry and a subscription to the Vegetarian Times. This was the perfect spirit-lifter for a difficult day.
I refrained from calling the day care twenty or thirty times to check up, even though the receptionist and Seamus's teacher both gave me permission to do just that. I called only once instead, and not until naptime. T was ready to call half an hour after we left. When I called around 1:00, Seamus had eaten all of the peanut butter and blueberry jam sandwich I made him for lunch, had fallen asleep just fine, was still sleeping when I called and hadn't cried once. I did a little dance in the kitchen after hanging up the phone. When we picked him up at 3:00, however, he was in his teacher's arms crying and crying, and not just a little whimper but a full-throttle cry, punctuated with deep gasps for air. His teacher said he'd been fine all day until five minutes before T and I arrived. Apparently he'd seen another mother pick up her child and realized that his parents weren't there. When we walked in the room, he was crying and asking for mama (or T says he could have been asking for wa-wa, his word for water), and his teacher was looking at us saying, See, I told you they'd come. It only took him a few minutes to settle down once we got there, and he realized he could show me his plastic dinosaur. His teacher, Miss Ayisha, says tomorrow may be a little worse since he's now onto our scheme. From now on, I'm picking Seamus up a few minutes early every day. Hopefully, by the time I begin working day care will be old hat for all of us.