It’s 12 days until the Big Anniversary/Birthday/Birthday Trip (BABBT), in case you’re not keeping count. For all my big talk, leaving Toddler D is starting to give me a dull stomach ache that wakes me up about 3 a.m. every night now. Oh, I know the trip will be good for me, good for my marriage, good for my family. I know I won’t scar him for life. I know my mother will survive and live to babysit again . . . but he’s just a little boy. What if he stands at the door the whole time calling my name. “Mom? Mom? Mom?”
We started a new session of ECFE today. Since Toddler D turned two we had to move up to the “big kid” 2-5 year old class. I was a little nervous going into a new group. It seemed all right. I knew a couple of people and Toddler D actually did better with the older crowd than he had the babies. Probably comes from hanging out with your older brother and sister who are actually adults.
When class was done I asked smart and sassy ECFE coordinator Cathy what I should be doing to prepare D for our long departure.
“Oh, leave him a picture.”
What? That’s it?
“More than likely he won’t remember you were gone.”
Well, yes, but what if he spends the whole week crying at the door?
“Will your mother stick to his routine?”
I doubt it.
“Well, anyway, at this age they still have a poor concept of time and he will get used to the fact that you’re gone.”
That makes me feel better . . . I guess.