Yesterday morning I was in quite the state about taking my daughter to the babysitter. I didn’t show this to her, of course. I was quite cheery about the whole thing. We had new groceries so I gave her an entire box of them to take to the babysitter’s house and eat with her family, knowing that my daughter just adores strawberries. We packed her special doll. I told her that it was only for a few hours and that I would be there directly after I finished teaching and we could spend the rest of the day together, albeit at work. She put on a brave face and we walked the one block to the other part of our townhouse complex where our babysitter lives.
While I knew that my daughter knew the babysitter, I don’t think that my daughter remembered. When we arrived and she realized that she really did know the babysitter from church, she smiled. The babysitter showed her around and there was a dog, a very gentle dog who doesn’t bark. My daughter loves dogs but is terrified of dogs that bark. They went to play outside.
When I got back, they’d spent the entire time walking the dog, playing outside, eating the strawberries and playing with chalk. I asked my daughter what she had thought about the experience. She said that she was scared at first but that it was fun. Thank goodness! Last night she informed me that she was sad that she wasn’t at the babysitter’s house. Hooray! In other circumstances I might feel a little sad about such a comment, but I would really like to have a babysitter that my daughter loves and who is just around the corner. My child has always had a hard time separating, so a good experience separating is really important.
And maybe, oh maybe my husband and I can even go on a date one of these days. Just saying.