We’re three weeks into daycare now, and Miles is still cool as a cucumber when I drop him off every morning, never once getting fussy as I walk away. In fact, when I come to pick him up, he’s still completely relaxed (and he does still usually give me a big smile when he sees me, which is pretty gratifying all things considered).
The ease with which he’s accepted daycare as his daily reality doesn’t mean he’s starting to recognize, and protest, other tell-tale signs of parental abandonment though. We’ve had a babysitter for the last two nights — Thursday for a concert and Friday for Ant-Man & The Wasp (sort-of review forthcoming) — and on both nights Miles has gone from chipper to OH GOD WHERE DO YOU TWO THINK YOU’RE GOING in mere seconds. As soon as he’s passed over to the sitter, Miles shoots whichever parent is closest a look and immediately begins crying.
Part of this is absolutely due to his level of exhaustion coming home from daycare each evening. He’s clearly been more worn-out lately (all that tummy time is a beast), and when he’s really tired he’s also really fussy. That being said, the timing of his tears isn’t a coincidence. And while it breaks my heart to leave him like that, it’s also nice to know he recognizes us and doesn’t want us to leave (I’ll hold onto this memory to help me get through the teenage years).
Plus, when we got home Thursday night, Miles semi-consciously looked up at me, gave me a big grin, then went immediately back to sleep. Now THAT’S worth coming home to.