Okay, so I am jumping the gun a little bit with that title, but that's how mournful I felt today when I dropped my precious charge off at A's house, gave him that last fleeting kiss & watched him toddle off to the snack table through the crack in the closing door. And miracle of miracles: he did not cry a bit. Not one tear. He seemed glad enough to see me when I returned for him 2 hours later (yes, 2.5 hours 2 days/week is all I have arranged -got to start somewhere, right?), but per A he did not seem to mind one bit that I was gone.
I was so incredibly relieved & was tempted to chock it up to how amazingly secure he is owing to the AP style we've followed nearly to a tee. A was careful to remind me that many children who fare well during their first days find it harder as the weeks go on. This week he doesn't realize what is happening, but next week he will be totally on to my scheme & may get more anxious when it comes time for me to depart. I hope she's wrong, but I am not going to count on it. It seems too good to be true.
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