Dear Andrew and Abby,
Well, it was another exciting week and weekend in our house. Let's talk about Andrew's excitement first.
That picture is about three days in to the healing process. I was a little too...upset...to think about photographing the evidence of the crime until then. You see, I've had a love-hate relationship with day care in general, but one of the staff members in the school-agers class at our current daycare in particular. I won't mention his real name - let's just call him Barney. Barney is some undetermined, but fairly young (19-ish?) age. As such, he is a lot of fun for Andrew, but also not exactly experienced in the care of children, or exactly the most responsible person I've ever met. Over the summer, he showed Andrew how to jump from the top of the play set (he jumped because all of the 8-year-olds were standing below and egging him on). He was also the instigator of the rough-housing that led to Barney pushing another boy and causing him to land on Andrew's toe full force which caused the toenail to turn black and threaten to fall off. Needless to say, Barney has not been my favorite. This week, Barney and the rest of the boys were playing and Barney shoved a plastic basket into Andrew's face to keep him from getting away. The lip looked awful. The best part of it all? Barney wasn't there as an employee - he no longer works at our day care. He was just there visiting. You know, to see his friends. The eight-year-olds. Okay, that's not fair or nice. Barney is a nice kid. I can call him a kid because I'm old and I'm a mom. He is nice and he plays with the kids and actually interacts with them instead of just ignoring them. All of that is great, and I really do like that there are guys who work at the day care. I just, you know, wish there was a little more maturity to go along with all the fun.
As for Abby, she is growing up faster than I can keep up with. She had her first play date at a friend's house this weekend. She was invited to Abi's house (that's pronounced Abby-Eye, as opposed to Abby-Why), along with seven other play mates. I wasn't sure if I was expected to stay or not, but the other parents were all planning to leave. I told Abby that the other mommies and daddies were going, but that I could stay if she wanted. Her reply? "No, Mommy. Leave." And then she turned back to playing. I was dismissed, just like that. At three, she has already learned that it's not cool to have Mom around when she's with her friends. Oh, are we in trouble come junior high...