Bella spent three days last week at daycare. On the first day, I expected her to throw a tantrum, wail dramatically and throw herself against the door when I left.
I'm sure you can predict how this story ends: She acted as though I was never there. Rather than any melodrama, she trotted herself right into the playroom and got to work pulling everything out, examining the toys and books, and climbing onto anything within reach.
This is the real amazing part. Who cares that I have spent the past 450 days taking care of the child ... her daddy is the real star of the show. She cries when he leaves the room, follows him around like a puppy and tucks herself into his side whenever he sits down. So you would think that she'd lose her mind when he showed up to pick her up on her first day - like perhaps seeing him would clue her in that she wasn't at home ...
NOPE. She couldn't have cared less that he was there. From what I'm told, he had to remove her from daycare by force and she was not too happy about it. This pretty much how it went all week. On day 3, she cried a little in the morning, but it was more because her molars cut through the night before and she was feeling whiney - had nothing to do with me.
I suppose I should be happy that she is so independent. That's how I've raised her to be, and it worked. Now let's hope this isn't a sign that she'll pierce her nose at 10 or try to move out at 14!
18.8.08
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