Tomorrow, Zoey will be camping out at daycare FOR THE WHOLE DAY. As in, from 6:30 in the morning until whenever I can sneak out of work to pick her up. (2:00? 3:00? 4:30 at the latest...) While she has grown somewhat accustomed to being part of the preschool program that's included in the daycare, I'm totally dreading the entire experience tomorrow for several reasons:
1. I am dropping her off. Remember the anxiety over Bryan taking her to the first day of preschool? And the reasons behind that? If you completely reverse all those concerns (he won't dress her properly, tell the teacher about her diaper rash, etc.) you have a great reason why I should be concerned to be dropping her off. Our dining room table is presently covered with the following: Zoey's backpack, a container of diaper wipes, a bag containing enough breakfast foods to tide her over for three weeks, her entire (expertly coordinated) outfit, and a list of things not to forget in the morning. Overkill? Perhaps. I will SO be the mother they have to kick out of the daycare in the morning.
2. Tears. On anyone's behalf, mine or Zoey's.
3. Waking Zoey up at 6:00 so we can be out the door at 6:25. Yeah. Sounds like fun, right? This means I'll have to be up at 5:30...I can't even imagine how much caffeine I'll have to be jacked up on to survive the staff meeting I have to sit through at 7 a.m.
4. And that's just the first part of the day! The REAL delight comes when I pick her up and she's totally cranky for the rest of the evening because she's been left in daycare all day! On Monday, she spent the entire day at her best friend Ari's house, and she was STILL crabby when she got home. I don't think I have to tell you that daycare is no picnic in the park with Ari. New friends, a huge noisy crowd to contend with most of the day, and that horrid overly-religious lady at the front desk.
5. Oh God. I hadn't even considered how awful it will be if I have to leave my tearful toddler in the arms of a woman who believes babies shouldn't be separated from their mothers. I can't handle guilt at such an early hour of the morning. Whatever amount of caffeine I think I'll need at that point will have to be doubled. Tripled.
6. That damn diaper rash. The one that landed us back in the pediatrician's office this morning. As it turns out, my little girl has a raging yeast infection that needs to be treated with a special cream three times a day and THEN--get this--a special diaper cream that I had to mix myself at every other diaper change. (That's right. The doctor sent me home with A RECIPE for diaper cream. I had to go to Target and buy $15 worth of supplies to make the special mix. So, if you ever need $15 diaper cream, I'm your gal.) This means that all tubes and jars of cream must be carefully labeled and special instructions given when I drop her off. With the crazy religious lady. Who then has to give the instructions to Teacher Melina when she arrives on the scene at 8:30. There is a part of me that hates to ask a teacher responsible for seven toddlers to please be extra vigilant about my toddler's bottom...but then, on the other hand, that's what I pay her for, right?
7. Zoey has been to preschool several times by now. But we always dropped her off at 9:00 and picked her up by noon. What if parents start to show up tomorrow at 12:00 and she can't figure out where her Mommy and Daddy are?
Obviously, tomorrow will be a long day for Zoey AND for me.
We'll see who sheds the first tear...my money is on ME.
1 comment:
So how did it go? Was the evil religious lady there?
Post a Comment