The whoops

You know that dream that we’ve all had where you’re giving a big presentation at work or you’re walking into your first day of high school and you’re naked? It’s mortifying and embarrassing and you’re not quite sure when it will end? In the blog world, the equivalent of that dream is publishing a post before you proofread it.
Last night, I posted a sweet, heartfelt post about my children’s first day at school. Unfortunately, a text exchange between Jason and I was inadvertently included in the post. We used some “choice” language and it was probably more than a little shocking to those of you who were reading it. Thank goodness for dear friends who alerted me right away, and I was able to fix it on the site; however if you are a follower you received the original in your email.
I can’t apologize enough. All I can say, is I truly don’t use that kind of language in my every day life. It was a intense message between husband and wife after 10 days and over five hours of being on hold & conflicting responses and answers from our county Medicaid office. That’s not an excuse, but anyone who has ever dealt with a government agency knows the type of hair pulling frustration that often accompanies it.
Lesson learned; read, reread, and reread again before I ever click that publish button. Thanks for your forgiveness and your grace.

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The first day

Okay, okay this post is long overdue. The first day was technically last month, but as any mother of children starting school will tell you, getting anything done beyond packing lunches, picking out clothes and implementing early bedtimes is pretty much impossible.
David started his new therapy daycare the week before Ella started preschool. I was worried about him since he’s always been at a daycare facility with her and he’s pretty much obsessed with her. He adores her and is mesmerized with her so I knew a separation would be rough. The first day I dropped him off he actually cried for me. I’m going to go out on a limb and say sometimes mothers actually like when their children cry. Hear me out, trust me. I would never want either of my children to cry out in pain or fear, but David’s attachment to me was a big fear of mine when he was in the NICU. I remember crying after I would hang up the phone with the nurses at night. It’s unnatural for a mother to ask a relative stranger for updates on her own child.  I was afraid he would become so attached to the nurses that he would never truly bond with me.  As a therapist, thoughts of RAD and other attachment disorders flew through my head at lightning speed, and I was afraid of what the future held. So when the nurses and therapists at his new daycare told me he was a little sad when I left, it felt good, it felt right & it assuaged any fear I had last year.
Ella, on the other hand has been a different story. My social butterfly, my future class president has had a rough transition. She spent the first two weeks making excuses to make us late. She begged me not to leave, clung desperately to David and I and we left her in tears every day. It has been a battle to adjust for sure. No amount of cute clothes or special treats in her lunch was doing the trick. Finally, a solution! She was sick this week. Weird, right? But her boring day lead to a newfound appreciation for school. She practically ran in the door this morning!
Newness is upon us. They are both adjusting probably quicker than their parents. And the best news? They still adore each other!
Happy Fall!

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