Change will do you good
Have you ever fallen into a safe bubble of routine and semi-normalcy and general happiness and well-being? If not, I recommend it. Of course when I felt like I was in such a bubble, I had to up and change everything.
Well, just one thing. Despite my lack of blogging around these parts, I haven’t been up to much beside my new normal. Working full time, taking my son to and from day care, solo parenting at night when my husband is working. Doing family things on the weekends. Generally enjoying life but also treading water a bit at times. Life can be hard.
Then we finally got the call that we got into the day care closer to our home. We had been on the wait list for TWO YEARS. I kid you not. I debated over what to do, as this had been our first choice. When we first started at our second choice day care I had a lot of issues with the way they handled things, and kept my fingers crossed that we would still get into our first choice eventually. Of course, eight months later, we’ve become accustomed to the way the second choice did it, and even grew to like it quite a bit. E was in love with his teachers, and, chatterbox that he’s become, constantly talks about his friends at day care. So the idea of taking him away from all that just seemed mean.
But we did it anyway. It was one of those things – weigh the pros (not making him commute 45 minutes each way with me every day, actually getting to work from home on occasion, staying home when I’m sick instead of infecting all my coworkers, to name a few), against the cons (OH MY GOD CHANGE IS SCARY HOLD ME). The pros won out. We made the switch.
This week we took E for short visits each morning at the new day care before going on to spend full days at his old one. Yesterday was supposed to be his final day at the old day care, and I envisioned tears from the teachers who have become attached to my little cutie, and maybe some confused tears from him, too. It’s a bittersweet thing for me to know I will no longer have his company on my commute every day, so there were bound to be some tears from me, too. Instead, there was vomit. And lots of it.
Sorry, was that gross? Tuesday night I was hit like a ton of bricks with stomach flu, and spent the entire night running to the bathroom. Fun times. It meant there was no way in hell I could go to work Wednesday, which meant I couldn’t take E to his final day at his old day care. My parents swooped in to rescue me and babysit (THIS is exactly why we needed a local day care!) since I could barely stand up without feeling woozy. So E didn’t get to say goodbye to his teachers and friends, and I may very well feel guilt over this for the rest of my life, even though I’m sure he will forget them in a couple of weeks.
Today, however, he did go for his first day at the new day care. I was nervous. He probably wasn’t, although he did say “no, no” and cling on to me as we walked into the building. He seemed happy when we left him, though, and I am chomping at the bit to hear how his first day went. My fingers are tightly crossed for a report of a good nap, happy eating, happy playing, general friendliness with the 19 (yes, 19!) other toddlers in his class.
It’s change, it’s scary, and I don’t know if it’s the right thing. But it took us out of our comfort zone, and it will force my son to learn to be uprooted and put into new situations. Best that he learn that skill now so he doesn’t end up a pukey bundle of nerves like his mama.