Well, we made it thru our first week and yes, I had a mimosa last night after dinner to celebrate!
Several friends along the way asked how I was doing, did I cry the first day, was I holding up ok?
No, I didn’t cry the first day. I was excited. And thankful.
I sometimes question myself on the whole crying thing. I teared up when I left Reynolds for the first time, but I didn’t cry. I didn’t cry or even tear up when I left Eliza Jane. I wasn’t sad to be leaving her or sad that I had to go back to work or sad that somehow I would miss something. Rather, I was thankful and that enabled me to be excited. It could have also been the rush of adrenaline I had that morning in trying to make sure that we had everything, including the kids and that we were all completely dressed!
Eliza Jane was a rock star her first week. For the first time this week she slept all the way thru the night(s). I told her teachers each morning what a great job they were doing with her during the day keeping her awake and stimulated because at night she completely passed out. She slept so well that I had to wake her up most mornings to feed her at 6:30.
The hardest thing for me this week was the drop off and pick up. It wasn’t as scary as I had imagined in my mind, but with Reynolds still a bit squirmy and not the best at following instruction right now, it was somewhat challenging some days. Then on Wednesday I tried dropping her off first, then him, and quickly decided that was not the best option. R thought it was play time in her room and getting him out and to his classroom was…well…difficult. He was not happy with mommy. I didn’t make that mistake again.
The week wouldn’t have been complete if something crazy hadn’t happened…and of course it did on Friday. The last day of the week. The day where I was going to be down another employee and in my mind, knew that I had to be at work early in order to get ahead before everyone else got there.
Reynolds woke up around 3am Friday morning, whining and crying. Sitting up in his bed when I walked in, he quickly said “mok” and signed for “milk”. So as I left his room to go fetch him a bottle of milk, he completely lost his mind. To get him back to sleep, I got in the bed with him and rubbed his back while he drank his “mok”. We both fell asleep. I woke up around 4 and thought, 40 more minutes and I’ve got to get up. 5:46 was the next time I saw the clock. Disoriented, I stared at the numbers. That cannot be right. Five forty six.
AHHHHHHH!! In my mind I thought, where do I start! I’m an hour late!
Start where you start…what’s first?
Running into our bedroom, I said to Andrew, who was snuggling with Eliza Jane (how does it always happen that way, when I’m with R, he’s with her?) – “Honey! I overslept!” And then I ran downstairs to get things going. When I came back up 15 minutes later, he was still there. “DidYouNotHearWhatISaid?!” He snapped up and in a “what? what’s going on” kind of fog, I said “I overslept! It’s after 6!”
Thankfully, even though I overslept by an entire hour and six minutes, I was still able to leave our house on time. He took the kids to daycare and everything was fine.
We made it thru the first week. And it was fun. This is the new normal, I guess. Well, hopefully not the oversleeping part…
Happy weekend y’all!