I took Lyla to her new daycare for an hour today to play, in anticipation of her first full day tomorrow. I felt it was important that she have a strong parental role model present to help ease her transition to this scary new place. If she freaked out, then I could comfort her, maybe take her home, explain to her softly that it would only be Tuesdays and Thursdays this summer and that we could take it as slowly as she wanted.
Three minutes into it, she forgot I even existed. She was off painting, climbing, eating, popping bubbles, and chatting with the teachers.
Meanwhile, I sat on the floor and got high-fived, sat on, climbed on, and hugged by six miniature humans. One of the teachers looked down at me and said, "So you teach high school? I don't know how you people do it."
"I was thinking the same thing of you," I replied as a little girl with a full diaper kissed my chin.
Lyla will be fine there. As far as easing the transition goes, she didn't need me at all. Maybe I needed her.
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