It occurs to me as I sit down to write that I almost never have anything to say here that's not at least indirectly about my daughter. It also occurs to me that I should think about changing that fact. Not because I'm worried about boring you (if I am, go away), or because I think I'll ever run out of things that I want to say or share about her (never gonna happen) but because one day she's going to have a full life of her own and she simply won't be around as much to provide such a wide and compelling (it is to me - shut up) body of subject matter.
This week we moved one step closer to that inevitable and rather ominous day when my baby flutters from the nest. Dramatic? Yes. But I have to make these stories interesting somehow.
This week Bella moved out of her (and my) beloved toddler room at daycare and started preschool (same daycare, different room, new routines, fewer and different teachers). Because I'm prone to rambling - if you're reading me you already know this - I'm going to make a really concerted effort to keep this post short and sweet. In fact, I'm going to leave it up to one picture (truly worth a thousand words) and one anecdote. The two together, I believe, sum up exactly how this milestone of a transition has gone so far.
Taken by her Daddy on her first day, in response to my question, "Bella, are you a little nervous for your very first day of preschool?" This is Bella's way of saying, "Oh HELLS no. BRING IT."
It's dinnertime on her first full day in her new "classroom." The whole family is sitting together chatting about our day.
Me to Bella: "Did you have fun at preschool today, Bella?"
Bella to Me: "Yeeees, I had FUN at pweschool tahday."
Bella: Pauses for a beat, thinking...
Bella to Me: "But tomorrow I'm going to be a toddler again, right Mummy?"
Me: Heart explodes into four hundred thousand shards as I realize that in fact she is not.