Letting Go.

A week ago, I chatted on the phone with a friend of mine from ECFE who has decided to put her sons in daycare one day a week. She told me about how hard it was but how much her boys liked it and I encouraged her that this is a good thing and that it will be good for them to have a day a week to grow their independence without mom. It's all a part of letting go, I said.

I sure talk a good talk, don't I?

Then came this week. We bid farewell to babysitter girl part two last week and this week started an entire new chapter in this school year's childcare dilemnas.

Daycare.

I've never had any huge qualms about quality daycares but what has seemed to work best for us this year is having a babysitter one to one with H. And while I think that has been positive (for the most part). I am realizing that he really could use more interaction. Without me around to intervene. Because while we go to ECFE and playdates and things, I am always there to help him.

H is going to Ms. Lisa's house two days a week the rest of the school year and possibly a couple days a week next fall. She is wonderful and loving and kind and very, very sweet. She only runs her daycare during the school year for parents who are teachers or work at school, so she is not overrun with children. In fact, there has only been two other little ones there the two days H went this week.

I know in my heart and mind that Lisa is great and that H will do fine, and that in fact, this is probably a great step for him and his growing independence. And all that aside, it's probably a good step for me to let go too. But that did not make it any easier.

I wasn't quite sure how H would react. Would he be scared? Would he cling to me? Would he be sassy? Would he cry all day long?

The night before his first day, I talked and talked and talked about what would be happening in the morning. That we would get up, get dressed, send T and M to the bus and go to Ms. Lisa's house. And in the morning we did just that, we got up, we got dressed, we got T and M to the bus and then we got in the car.

As I pulled out of the driveway I looked at H.

All of a sudden he looked so big to me.

"Today you're going to Ms. Lisa's house. She is very nice H. You don't have to worry about anything. She's going to take care of you while I go to work. But I will come back."

He looked out the window and did his own blah blah blah's as we drove the two blocks over.

"You don't have to be scared, because I will always come back and get you." I continued.

But as we pulled in the driveway he screeched with excitement.

"Beep-beeps" He squealed.

"Oh yes, they have beep-beeps here H. See this place is fun." As if I needed to prove this to him.
We walked inside and H, hit the ground running. He was off playing with this, with that, with anything he could get his hands on.

"Goodbye" I said to a child too busy to even acknowledge me.

I left feeling odd. Because I realized that he doesn't need me by his side to do things.

He is independent.
He is smart.
He knows what he wants.

He went to Ms. Lisa's two days this week and both days seemed to have a wonderful time and good reports. (Despite his sharing issues and other normal two year old boy behaviors.) And on his second day when she told me he seemed more like 3, than 2, I wanted to burst into tears. He's still my little one!

But I do believe this is good for him. And me.

Even if it means me letting go just a little bit more.

My mom once said, how do you know the butterfly can fly if you don't let her go?
You don't. You must let go and let their wings take flight.

So, H, may your wings take flight as your mama learns how to let go a little more each day.