My wife and I compete over a lot of dumb things. It’s actually comical… most of the time. The other night we had a competition about who could be quieter getting into bed. Seriously, why is it so damned creaky anyways? Clearly, I lost.
Earlier this week, we argued about who was more nervous about Gray starting daycare. She won. She always wins.
But, we were/are both really nervous about Gray starting daycare. It’s a friggin’ terrifying experience for a parent. You hear all of the horror stories, and how the kid will always be sick and how, thanks to daycare, he won’t need you anymore. Are we creating an independent, self-sustaining son? Is that a bad thing?
Dibs did a lot daycare research, and despite her not liking one of the teachers, we finally picked one. So far, so good, I think. I mean, he hasn’t come home with any bite marks, or a tattoo. I guess it has only been a week.
It’s pretty obvious he’s my son, because on day 1, he tried to hug a girl and pulled her hair. She cried, he most likely laughed. That’s my boy!
I’ll keep you guys updated on how it goes.
(Note: I wrote this a couple of days ago, and didn’t post it. Now, he’s sick. Panic button hit.)