There are mornings like this morning, when Jane wakes up and she seems like a completely different baby than she was when she went to sleep last night. More grown up, more alert, more like a real little person. She's doing all sorts of new things lately - everything from sucking her whole hand non-stop (not sure if this is a predecessor to her being a thumb sucker or what) to grasping her hands together to lifting her head up when she's on her tummy. She has been taking naps - albeit short naps - on her back during the day, with no elevation or anything. She's well on her way out of the carseat sleeping situation. She's losing her hair (!), and it will be a surprise to see how it comes in when it grows back. Will it be dark, like it was when she was born, or will it be, as I suspect, more red, like the color of her eyebrows? She laughs, she makes all kinds of noises that will someday be words...she's just constantly evolving, right before my very eyes.
Daycare starts this week. I am heading there after her nap this morning to drop off all of her stuff and to go over their procedures. I have bought new clothes for myself that actually fit right. I have filled out a million forms. We are as ready as we can be, at least with all of the stuff. But inside, I feel like my heart is breaking.
I have all sorts of questions. Will she know that I'm her mom when I pick her up at the end of the day? Will she take her first steps and say her first words at daycare? What will I miss? Will she change during the day, so when I pick her up eight hours later, she's not the same? Is this OK? Will she be OK? Will I be OK?
I have felt incredibly melodramatic over the past few weeks. I give major props to Greg for dealing with my tears and insecurities and questions. He has been amazingly great about everything. I am going back to a job that couldn't be more flexible and family-friendly. I am very, very lucky.
I just want this week to be over, so the transition will be done.