Today was going along alright. The weather was shitty, but, hey, it’s November. I was waiting for a call from the veterinarian that won’t come until tomorrow. And Mr.Q actually managed to cross a car off our list of Vehicles We Might Be Interested In.
And then I asked how daycare went.
There was only the briefest of whimpers this morning when Mr.Q left her there: no tears, no shock, no hurt at the blatant rejection and abandonment. And, as a result, there was much rejoicing. Never have we had such an uneventful drop off, in our three weeks of dropping off! She is settling in!
But, the rest of the day was not to joyous. She was sad when she woke from her nap this afternoon. She went to the wall where the family photos are posted and took down the laminated house that has me, Mr.Q, her puppy and kitty looking back at her. And she was sad. She hung on to her mama and dada, Shiba and Meow and carried us around the daycare for an hour or so. And she was sad.
And the staff let her carry us around for comfort. And let her be a little sad, because it’s okay to be a little sad if you’re missing someone(s).
By the time Mr.Q picked her up at 4, she was thrilled to see him, but no longer sad and no longer carrying around her memories in the form of a laminated pink paper house with crooked photos taped on it. But, when Mr.Q told me of her sadness, it was just about the saddest thing that I’d ever heard.
And, dammit, I’m trying to take public transit, here, people. Even knowing that she was perfectly okay was not good enough. My baby had been sad. Tears may get you a seat on the bus, but it doesn’t make you any less sad. Especially if you’re missing someone.