Our little guy has had a rough go of it lately. He’s been a little off. I think he maybe picked up a bug going around school (aka daycare) which has made him a bit more irritable. He’s also waking up WAY TOO EARLY and we’re trying to get him back down for the extra sleep he needs. (Easier said than done). He may also be going through a bit more of an attachment phase. All of which has created the perfect storm in an approaching 2 year-old which has lead to a boy that will cry at the drop of a hat. (Dad puts a shirt on – he sobs. We put yogurt in a bowl instead of giving him the GIANT container – he sobs. You get the idea…)
That said, leaving the house and being dropped-off at daycare has been on the list of unpleasant activities as of late. The kid that enthusiastically kissed me goodbye and went with Dad into the car, then popped out of Dad’s arms at daycare to play with his friends before even getting his coat off is replaced by a crying clinging little boy.
You know it’s bad when my husband basically passes off duty on me for a day, and by ‘pass’ I mean ‘forces duty upon me’ by all but refusing to take V to daycare. So I, by default, got drop-off duty. (To be fair, my husband does literally 98% of both drop-off and pick-up, it’s VERY RARE for daycare to see me – like – ever – so I figured I could step-up this one time).
Let me preface this by saying that I’m pregnant and hormonal (a card I typically do not play but when you read about my display and subsequent response you’ll understand why).
Getting out of the house was not a problem. Got in the car and drove to daycare without a hitch. Walked through the door and into his classroom… this is where the problems started. He didn’t want me to go and was jumping for me to pick him ‘up! up! up!’ when I set him down to pull off his coat. I decided to sit with him and figured that would get him acclimated to the room and he’d be good for me to go. He was not good to go. Every time I even mentioned getting ready to leave he started sobbing. I say sob because most of the time V doesn’t just cry he full on sobs – very dramatic this one. It was heartbreaking. I could feel tears welling in my eyes. Finally I had to rip the band-aid off and place him in the arms of the teacher and head out the door. I cried the entire way down the hall, out the door and in my car for a good portion of my commute. I literally couldn’t talk about it when I was at work because it would cause me to cry. It was the worst. No wonder my husband didn’t want to drop him off!
Then again it doesn’t help matters that work is particularly challenging which piles onto my stress level and really was not an attractive activity to have to leave a sobbing toddler for. I would have much rather been hanging with him than dealing with things at the office. After this particularly trying day both on home and work front I was spent. Later that night when my husband returned home we were chatting about the day. (I use the word ‘chatting’ loosely it was more like me venting intensely and him patiently listening to me). I told him, in no uncertain terms, that if he wanted me to be on drop-off duty for V again I would literally walk into work and put in my notice. This was not a threat, this was a promise. I literally can. not. do. it. A bit dramatic? Yes. Far fetched? Not so much.