“Oh yeah, sure – if you think he’s ready for that, we’re open to it,” I say to our day care Director as she describes toddler lunches, a blend of fine pot pies, spaghetti and beanie weenies. I feel my head nodding as she goes on to describe the daily activities of circles and crafts, recess and more, and fight the urge to run screaming out of the center, child on hip, picking up the little shattered pieces of my heart on the way out.
A slow transition to the toddler room – really? Planning his first birthday – really? Not to mention his new trick of pushing Mommy away from what used to be snuggle time, getting only 30 seconds in of rocking before bed and delighting more in the darling audiologist than his parents.
So “they” were all right – it does happen too fast. And even though I steadfastly believe I delighted in each and every moment, including the hard ones, I could’ve never prepared my soul for how brilliant and magical, devastating and earth-shattering this could all be at once. And this is just a slow transition to the toddler room and weaning over the next few months. What is kindergarten, girlfriends and driving going to be like? O-M-G…
Ok, so he’s still nine months old and I have a tendency to lean toward drama queen. But friends, please tell me – how does one master the art of letting go? What is the secret for coping with these things?
For now, I’m choosing to channel Peter Pan, because, after all, he never grew up. And he turned out just fine – famous even…
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