One of the things we'd heard when Nicholas was starting daycare was that the kids sometimes find long weekends hard. They get out of their routines, and get used to being around mommy and daddy (and in this case, that's a good thing), and forget about their life in daycare. When you take them back after three or four days off, they regress, and begin resisting again.
Well, we had a four-day weekend last week, partly because of my parents' visit, and partly because the daycare center was closed on Easter Monday. So Nicholas went back Tuesday (and has started going every day for April), and seems to have had no trouble re-adjusting. Really, I'd give a lot of money to know his thoughts about life in general, but from what we can glean from a ten-month-old's signals, he loves it there. I had actually figured that he would not be anxious, but would be much happier getting back to his routine.
So him I'm not surprised about. But me? That's a different story. Out of the blue on Wednesday morning, I was hit with pangs of "wait a minute—I haven't played with Nicholas in TWO DAYS!" I had gotten used to him, it seems. Four days in a row of full-time child care, including lots and lots of playtime, seems to have had its effect on me. Now, of course, if I didn't work we'd have all sorts of other problems (the reasons why I would make a bad stay-at-home parent could fill a very boring but long book). But it's kind of strange to be sitting at your desk and realize that you'd rather be home playing with blocks.
I would rather be playing with blocks, too. Every.Single.Day. I get jealous of Abby's teachers at daycare and make sure that I stop and play with all of the little ones when I get to pick her up. Bummer for both of us. :o)
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