As you know from previous posts, little man is in daycare officially four to five days a week.
And as I've mentioned it's been hard for both of us. After a couple of weeks of dropping him off every morning and feeling miserable when I leave because he just doesn't want me to go ("mama, stay with me?"), I had a realization one morning that perhaps my tactics weren't good. Here is what I started out doing:
For the first few days, I would take him into his classroom, get him settled, find him toys to play with, engage him with the other kiddos and then when he wasn't looking, I would sneak off quiet as a ninja and out the door. One morning after doing this, I decided to look through the one-way window and see how he reacted.
And my heart broke.
I saw him looking around, walking around, looking for me. And then I saw tears well up in his big blue eyes as he continued looking around for me. What a jerk. How could I leave my child feeling like that? I could only imagine what was going through his mind. I couldn't take it. I had to walk out right then and there and my eyes flooded with tears on my way to the car.
I decided that the next morning, I would try another tactic. Hopefully one that wouldn't leave him feeling abandoned. Gah, abandoned is such a harsh word. Do you think he felt that way?
So the next day, I happened to drop him off right around breakfast and was hopeful this would be a good distraction. I got him settled around the table with the other kiddos and waited until they handed out his plate of food. I told him I had to go to work, that I wanted him to have the best day and that daddy would be there to pick him up later in his big truck (he has this obsession with Nick's truck, I think because it has a DVD player and daddy lets him watch Mickey whenever they go anywhere...but, I digress).
He said, "mama, no! Mama, stay with me" and climbed up into my lap and wrapped his arms around my neck with turbo strength. After prying his arms off and getting him settled back in his chair, I tried my hardest to talk him through his day and how much fun he would have. Once I stood up, he tried again to get me to stay and I continued to talk him through what they were going to do that day. It ended up, he stayed in his chair and ate and as I walked out, he turned in his chair and his eyes followed me all the way to the door, but then he turned back to his pancakes and that was that.
This new method seems to be working better and I feel better about it, so we will see.
On a happier, more positive note (thank God, I'm sure you're all thinking...) we have officially introduced peanut butter into little man's diet. And I couldn't be more excited. No more sneaking spoonfuls of peanut butter and hiding it from him so he doesn't ask for some...wait, who does that? Oh yeah, I do.
And yes, he's sitting on the counter, in his diaper, owning that jar of peanut butter. Isn't that how everyone does it?? I love how he just gets after it and shoveled fist after fist right into his mouth. Some people say he looks like his daddy, but it was in this moment with the peanut butter dripping off his fingers and covering his face, that he resembled his mama...
Take a look at him lovin' up on some PB&J. Yum.