Tomorrow I start working. Little L, who is 28 months already, will start going to daycare three afternoons a week. I found a lovely school, and I am sure he will be well taken care of. But it is going to be hard. If he smiles less, I will blame it on myself. If he loses weight, I will blame it on myself. If he is not as bubbly as his usual, I will blame it on myself. If he is not happy, it will be my fault. When I started to look for a job we really thought that sending him to school would be the best option for him in a city with a six month long winter. It doesn't sound that good twelve hours before I drive him there. I am trying to prepare my class, but all I can see is his smiley face.
I wanted to have a special day today. Go to the park, eat together, go for some ice cream in the afternoon... Instead, he, as usual, spent the day in front of the TV. I asked him what he wanted to do, and his answer was, four times : "Buzzzzzz..." Which, in his language means "I want to watch Toy Story again". Which we did. At the end, it was his day, wasn't it? But I still feel like the worst mom ever. No park, no ice cream, no glory.
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