He's finally got a piece of the pie

On Friday, I walked into daycare briskly, ready to swoop up Harrison, cover him with special "Yay! It's the weekend!" kisses, get home, and pack for the dreaded 5-hour car ride that would take us to Northampton and our weekend with Val and Tara. So there I was, happily moving in for the kisses, when the manager bounded in to hand me a "Move Up" Slip. As in, movin' on up from Infant Two to the next classroom: Toddler One.

It was one of those times when I really had to stop myself from crying in public. (Yes, I really do try and exercise self-restraint in the public-crying department. Can you imagine how much crying there would be if I didn't!?) It was also one of the moments when I really hate daycare. I hate that Harrison is being shuffled up a little early because they need to make room for more money--er--babies, in the Infant rooms. I hate that he's inevitably going to get less attention there, because the child to teacher ratio is going to go up by two. I hate that he has to be reunited with Jackie the Bully*. I hate that he has to once again leave his familiar teachers and classroom and develop whole new relationships and trust and learn a whole new routine.

I think part of the problem is that I also hate having my attention drawn to the fact that my baby is growing up so quickly and will actually be fine in the big kids' room, where there are more structured and scheduled activities and naps and mealtimes.

The good news is that the Toddler tuition is actually $15 a week cheaper than the Infant tuition--only come September they are raising the rates in all the rooms by $10, so we'll actually be paying only $5 less, but, hey, as my dad says, "That's better than a poke in the eye."

But I don't know. Maybe I'd rather be poked in the eye than have to pay for a service that I don't even want, if it meant I could spend my days with my boy.

I just need to get over it. I'm getting over it.

Oh, Guilt of the Working Mother--bane of my existence--be gone!!!

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*Some random background on Jackie the Bully:

• Jackie's preferred method of greeting is pushing Harrison down or tapping him on the head.
• Doug and I thought Jackie was a girl for the first six months, so we always referred to him as "she" when talking to the daycare teachers, who must have thought we were nuts.
• Jackie only has one arm.
• Jackie's clothes are often dirty, which is sad.
• Doug and I sometimes privately call Jackie "The One-Armed Nelson." Get it?! Because of the bullying, and the wrestling move, and the one arm, and the Simpsons!? Oh, we are so clever and mean!