We made a quick visit to the daycare on Tuesday so that I could pick up enrollment forms for Liam. Of course, everybody ohhed and ahhed over how adorable he is. And my friendly little man went happily into the arms of anyone who reached out for him. A part of me is happy that he is content to go to anyone. It should make the transition into daycare much easier for him. But at the same time, there is a part of me that feels disappointed that he's not at least a little bit sad when I hand him off to a complete stranger. But, we'll just have to wait and see what happens the first time I drop him off and leave. I can guarantee that there will be tears . . . even if he doesn't cry, I am sure that I will. I am sure that this whole back to work, starting daycare thing will be a lot more difficult for me than it will be for him.
So, as I sit here typing this, I am avoiding the envelope of enrollment forms because somehow the thought of filling them out will just make this all so much more real. I am still hoping for a miracle - you know the kind - hubby will suddenly get an enormous raise, we'll win a lottery or money will start falling from the sky, anything that would allow me to be the stay at home mom that I wish I could be. But time is running out and the chances of a miracle are very unlikely.