Stabbed in the Heart

Today on the way to preschool, Lucia, as she always does, asked if I was going to be the “helping mommy” today. I told her no, but that I’d be the helping mommy next week. “Are you the leaving mommy today?” she replied. Oof. The leaving mommy. Even though I leave this child for a total of five hours per week—at preschool, which she loves and looks forward to—I still felt a good dose of mommy guilt. (“I’m so glad you’re here!” Lucia exclaimed when I returned to pick her up. “Brr! It’s a good thing we’re wearing coats!” After preschool, everything is usually an excited exclamation.)

I also felt guilty because I left Greta with a new sitter for the first time today, and I was sure she’d be scared and upset. But it went fine—the sitter is wonderful, and when I came home she’d gotten out all the drums and was engaging Greta in a lively song, Greta smiling on her pink chair. The sitter said Greta didn't cry at all and took a one-hour nap.

This afternoon the girls had on their fairy wings and crowns for a while as they played—a quiet, cute time.