Ruckus started a new daycare yesterday. It is a regular daycare, where kids of all ages go before and after school, or like my son, all day when they are too young for school. It is less than half a mile from my work, so I can pop over and check on him, or scoop him up quickly should he be ill.
When I dropped him off yesterday morning he screamed and pounded on the glass door as I walked away. It broke my heart and I cried a little on the way to work. I was not expecting this, as he never cried when I left him at Tiffany's house. But Tiffany seemed to neglect his needs, whereas Ruckus had a nap, ate his peas and carrots, and drank at least 10 ounces of milk yesterday at the new place. When I picked him up he was happy to see me, but not so overjoyed as to make me think that he'd had a bad day. There are a lot of nice ladies who work there, and I think they try their best to take care of him.
He screamed and carried on again when I dropped him off this morning, so my heart is once again bruised, and I'm full of anxiety that he hates it there and I'm a terrible mom for leaving him. I am trying to keep in mind that he is just having a little trouble adjusting to this new schedule and a new place, and that it will get better as time goes by. Of course logic and emotions do not always agree.
His classmates are all of a similar age to him. Yesterday there was the skinny white girl who I described a few months ago, and whose name I can't recall, and a little boy named Trey. Poor Trey was still there when I picked up Ruckus last night. This morning Skinny White Girl was missing and there was a big eyed boy named Rodney in her place, and the ever present Trey, who seems like a happy kid.
We'll see how things go today with him, and hopefully the drop gets a little easier for us both as time goes on.
