Dear Connor,
This month, you’ve turned from our mildly inquisitive, always-happy little dude into a full-on toddler, complete with flailing tantrums and crocodile tears. Part of this could be because we moved to a new house, and part could be because you’ve been sick with a cough and runny nose for literally months now — not to mention that you’re about that age, anyway.
Dear Connor,
Every month seems like such a sea change. Every month, I write about how much you’ve learned and how much you’ve grown, and every month you change more than the last.
Big things are happening in your life. You’ve been going to daycare (aka “school”) twice a week for about a month now, and you love it! In fact, you get very upset on the mornings when you realize that Mommy’s taking you back upstairs and not bye-bye. You actually nap at daycare now — probably in part because you no longer have an ear infection from the bug you picked up on your very first day. You’re acclimating well, and learning new things, like “shh” and “nuh-uh” and sitting down quietly to watch TV. We can tell you’re trying to say other new words that you’ve learned, too, but Mommy and Daddy can’t understand what you mean yet.
I was all nervous. I was nervous that Connor would scream and cry when I left. I was nervous about him eating (he’s only just begun to master the spoon). I was nervous about him napping (mostly about him waking other kids with his not-napping).
I knew all these fears were minor and not really worth worrying about. But I worried anyway. I worried because Connor didn’t know what was coming, and couldn’t worry for himself.
Which was silly.
We arrived at the daycare (or “school,” as I got Connor saying) around 7:30am, bright and early. I got his stuff into a cubby designated for him, and hung up his coat as he wandered around and got familiar with the place. At first, he tried to beeline for the other room, where the older kids were, but one of the teachers got him interested in all the colorful toys.
After that, it was smooth sailing. The adults rounded up all the kids for some breakfast while I gave my weekly check to the administrator. When I came out of her office, the toddlers were all sitting around a low table — on CHAIRS! — eating multigrain Cheerios out of small bowls. Connor ate his dry; I was worried (again) that he’d make a mess out of cereal and milk.
I made my escape while he was preoccupied with second breakfast. Not that I wouldn’t have liked to give him a great big hug goodbye… but it wasn’t the best idea at the time.
The administrator let me know that I was welcome to call and check in later in the day, to see how Connor was doing. I assured her that I would.
I left for work (later than I’d intended, but no later than usual) feeling confident about our daycare decision. Connor seemed happy, and the adults all seemed competent and caring. No more worries.
No worries about Aaron, either; I saw from our ongoing Words With Friends game that he managed to sleep in until after 11:00, which was a much-needed departure from the normal weekday routine. He said later that it was weird to wake up to silence, with no Connor in the next room. (He then spent the afternoon catching up on housework.)
I called the daycare after my lunch walk, around 1:00. They reported that Connor had been enjoying himself, for the most part. No tears, except for one instance where another child touched him on the shoulder and startled him into brief hysterics. Apart from that, all was well. He’d just finished his lunch of a slice of pizza (his very first ever, by the way) with sides of corn and green beans, and was at that point sitting in a high chair playing with a toy train. She also told me that Connor was good with his words, and had been pointing to her eyes, ears, and nose earlier.
They asked me when he usually naps, and I told them, “Um, now?”
As I drove to the daycare after work, I was really hoping that he’d managed to nap. Alas, I learned upon picking him up that he did not, in fact, get a nap in. He had wandered around and played quietly while the other children slept.
The teachers joked that Connor must have known I was coming to get him, because he was standing and looking out the window when I came into the room.
It took some doing to get his attention, and I could tell from his baggy eyes that he hadn’t napped, even before I got the official word from the teacher.
He did NOT want to go home. (After running around all day, he didn’t even want to be picked up and held!) I had to pretty much chase him around and cajole and convince and finally just strongarm him into leaving. He threw a little fit — he was overtired, so of course he threw a fit — but we got his coat on and managed to finally wrangle him out the door.
I’m supposed to get a daily sheet that tells what Connor did during the day, but unfortunately, they didn’t have one for me today. I guess maybe because I called and checked in? I’m a little disappointed, though, because I would have liked to put that in his baby book.
His normal teacher arrives after I drop him off and leaves before I pick him up, so I haven’t gotten to meet her in person — only talked to her on the phone the one time today. I’m going to leave her a note for Friday to let her know to put Connor down by 2pm if he hasn’t napped yet. I’m also going to bring a board book (marked with his name) for him to “read” during naptime.
Of course, all my worries were unfounded (as I knew they were). Even his lack of a nap wasn’t that big of a deal, although I hope he naps as he gets used to going there. It just made for a slightly cranky evening.
Connor got to play with new friends, Daddy got to sleep in get a normal amount of uninterrupted sleep and get some stuff done around the house, and Mommy… well, Mommy got to see the grin on Connor’s face when he saw where he was going to spend the day.
It was an exciting and tiring first day, and I’m sure Connor will be pleasantly surprised to see that he gets to go back on Friday!
You are so not a little baby anymore.
Mommy’s been keeping track of the words you say, and you’re up to a few dozen. Your vocabulary has just exploded in the past month, and you’ve been learning literally a new word every day for the past week or so. You say words that we didn’t even know you knew — we didn’t teach them to you on purpose. But some we did, and it’s rewarding to hear you repeat them. (Just make sure not to repeat the words we don’t want you to know…!)
I’m not even sure where to start! It’s been a busy month: you had your first “real” haircut at a stylist; we had Christmas Eve in Cleveland and Christmas Day at home; you’ve picked up new words; you’ve tried new foods; you’ve started getting new teeth.
