Monday Morning Blues

10 08 2009

Azita was crying when I left her at daycare this morning. I know I’m lucky. This is not a usual occurrence. In fact, she usually smiles and coos and giggles at the sight of her main caretaker (hereafter referred to as Miss Poppins). I always leave her there knowing that I am leaving her in the hands of people she loves, and who dote on her. This morning would have been no exception, except that the advent of crawling has turned Azita into a perpetual motion machine. And, beware her wrath if you try to stop her. Miss Poppins had to stop her this morning, at least until a soft, clean crawling surface was put down. I know that the crying was probably a short-lived thing — when I looked in the window on my way out, she was already smiling and babbling at some of the other kids — but I couldn’t help feeling the same way I felt on that first day I dropped her off at daycare. I remember that day acutely. I refer to it often as “the worst day of my life.” I don’t think I’m being overly dramatic either.

On that day many friends plied me with words intended to comfort: “Don’t worry. In a couple weeks, you’ll be looking forward to Mondays.” Well, it’s 5 months later, and I think I can definitively say that I will never look forward to Mondays. Nor, I’ve decided, do I want to.




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