little black journal

Our little mop top hit eight months on Wednesday!  It’s been a big month of small-but-sweet pleasures – giggles, lunch dates, new flavors and faces.  I don’t know if it’s the sunshine or the sweet potatoes or the long afternoon naps, but Juliette is growing even faster than the dandelions that have suddenly sprung up all over our yard!  Her toes are already scrunched in her 12-month footy pajamas, and there are days that I pick her up and have to check her pockets for rocks because she feels so much heavier than she did just hours before.  I’m thrilled to see her thriving, but dang it, the changes just come soooo fast.  Too fast sometimes.  So I’m still squeezing her into a couple of my favorite 6-month onesies, and I can’t bear to part with this duck towel that we’ve been wrapping around her since her very first bath.

“Wait – you’re putting these pictures on the internet?!”

We gave Jules her first “swimming lesson” a couple of weeks ago – there’s a great new pool a couple of miles from our house with a dedicated children’s area and we went for a family dip on a rainy Saturday.  She was a little bewildered by the whole thing, not knowing what to make of all the splish-splashing kids around her, and she clung pretty tightly to Shane and I as we cruised through the water.

But the trip was totally worth it, just to see her strut her stuff in her swimsuit!  Oh, Jules – you are too much.

She’s more and more easily amused these days, gracing us with her giggles during post-bath “armpit nom-noms”.

Daddy is still hilarious.  And a little scary, no?

She’s become a pretty great date, and we often head out for family lunches on Shane’s Fridays off and bakery runs on Saturday mornings.  The fact that she can sit in a high chair rather than my lap is pretty huge – I no longer have to spend the entire meal trying to rescue my food from the grip of our grabby girl!  (Those chips and guac are for me, not her!)

Her stellar sitting skills also come in handy at the grocery store, as she’s now able to hang out in the shopping cart – this has revolutionized the way we do Costco!  Plus, she holds my wallet for me.  So helpful, that girl…  (I think this is her “how could you possibly need another photo of me?!” face.)

We’re adding new foods to her menu each week – she loves mangos and berries and scrambled egg yolks.  Yogurt, not so much…

Peas are usually a hit, but yesterday she protested for some reason.  This squishy face gets me every time – ok, baby, pears it is, then!

The expressions on this girl!  Kills me.

Her hair is becoming more and more red and increasingly unruly.  There are some mornings that we can’t help but laugh when we lift her from her crib, as she bears a striking resemblance to drunk Nick Nolte.

Juliette’s teacher at daycare is quite the baby hair stylist – seems Jules is always sporting some kind of new ‘do when we pick her up in the evenings.  Baby buns, tri-pony’s – anything to tame those wispy locks.

And those blue eyes!  The red hair is from the Schnell side of the family, but we’re still stumped on where she got her blue-gray gaze.

We’ve had some pretty incredible weather this month – sunshine and barefoot temps and long hours of daylight.  So we hit the parks hard, as swing sessions and games of airplane are guaranteed smile-makers.

Seriously, girl loves her swings…

This stuck-out bottom lip has become part of her trademark facial expression.

I know, so many photos…

Doesn’t she look like she’s striking a pose for a school photo here?  Turn a little more, tilt your head a bit, smiiiiile…

Happy eight months, baby!  Looking forward to seeing what you’ve got in store for us next month.  Crawling, more new faces, maybe sleeping through the night…?

Happy Mother’s Day!  I spoke to my mom and my grandma on the phone today and longed to be with them so we could share coffee and memories and prayers – I’m blessed to come from a line of bold, faithful, nurturing women.  Virtual hugs were exchanged with Shane’s parents tonight via Facetime and I was reminded of my mother-in-law’s incredible warm-heartedness as she cooed and laughed with Juliette.  The moms in my life have given me so much to live up to.

This is the first year I’m part of the celebrated demographic, and as I read my Facebook well-wishes and ate my French toast and snuggled with Jules, my head reeled with the still-sinking-in reality that I’m a mom.  After all those childhood years I spent changing diapers on my Betsy Wetsy doll, after all those adolescent prayers for my future husband and children (no joke!), after our long and difficult period of infertility, I’m now mama.

I’ve wondered if I have the drive or the skill set to be an architect; I’ve questioned if I’m creative enough to be an artist; I’ve wandered down dimly lit paths of self-doubt as I asked myself what I could or should or want to be.  But from the moment Juliette was placed in my arms, motherhood felt so wonderfully right on me.  Even in the midst of utter exhaustion, heart-wrenching worry, complete vulnerability, I’ve found some of the deepest, truest joy I’ve ever known – loving and caring for that little girl is my best, most fulfilling work.  Even the small stuff buoys me with pride and satisfaction – a fridge well-stocked with freshly puréed baby food, a rocking session and perfect arms-to-crib transfer after an inexplicable fit of 3 am wailing, a blow-out of a diaper after three days of coaxing our constipated baby to please just push it out. Plus the chest nuzzles and the two-toothed smiles and the exciting moments when something new is learned or discovered – this gig is good. I could do without the mountains of sweet-potato-smeared laundry, but other than that, I’m livin’ the dream.

And today was extra-dreamy: a sleep-in and homemade breakfast courtesy of Shane; an afternoon filled with sun, swings, baseball and boba; post-bath giggles as I kissed Juliette’s squishy thighs…I don’t know that Happy Mother’s Day even captures it.

Another ten on ten – ten photos over ten hours on the tenth of the month…

Best bedhead ever.

Embracing the baby clutter that usually drives me crazy…

Our yard has exploded with springtime color this month.  Shane thinks our planters are an overgrown jungle – I’m calling them “perfectly lush”.

These two blue-eyed pig-tailed girlies enjoyed a snack together at Brian and Nicole’s garage sale fundraiser.

Gryff was pretty stoked about his 50-cent ball cap.  Looks so good on you, bud!

Stopping to strike a pose on our way inside.

Nap-time craft-time (more on this one later!).

Post-nap swing-time.

Gray day.

Baby in bed, dinner eaten, table cleared, day is done…

The Jarrell clan made the trek from Portland to Seattle this weekend and we packed in some serious park-playing, baby-doting, and wine-drinking during their 24 hours here.  Fifteen minutes after they arrived, I was out the door with them to hit the playground at Jefferson Park so that the girls could burn off the energy they’d pent up during the three-hour car ride.  A few minutes on the swings, a dozen rounds on the zip line, and about 90 trips down the slide – these kids can go.

Jules (sort of) napped while we were at the park and was eager to meet her cousins when we got back.  Morgan’s motherly instincts kicked into overdrive right away and she couldn’t wait to get that baby in her lap.

Poor Juliette came down with a cold yesterday afternoon and was in a pretty sad funk through the rest of the day, so we stayed close to home, picking up takeout for dinner and cracking open a couple bottles of wine after all the kiddos were tucked into bed.  We lounged in our pajamas this morning, drinking coffee while the girls cozied up on the couch.

Shane stayed home with our sleepy baby this afternoon while the rest of us went downtown for lunch.  These girls!  I realized this weekend how much I’ve missed really being an aunt since I’ve taken on the role of mama.

Donuts from the market and a stop Target for sunglasses, and then it was time for the Jarrells to hit the road.  I felt especially blue saying good-bye this time around – this visit felt so short and Jules wasn’t the happy, giggling niece and cousin I’d hoped she’d be.  I’m still figuring out how to roll with the parenthood punches, I guess.  But I’m warmed by the memory of Morgan’s sweet rendition of The Itsy Bitsy Spider, by Elise’s boldness on the playground zip line, by the thought that there will be more visits, more chances for Jules to warm up to her extended family.  So come back soon, Jarrells, you hear?

Our big little baby turned seven months old on Monday!  Seven months old, and smarter/stronger/sillier/sweeter than ever…

We’re adding new foods to Juliette’s menu every week and have had a lot of fun watching her enjoy eating with such gusto.  Favorites include sweet potatoes, zucchini, and any kind of fruit.  Peas and avocados will be consumed with some coaxing, but mixed with pears they’re a hit.

She’ll eat most food as quickly as I can shovel it into her mouth and is left looking for more once her bowl is empty.  But occasionally she decides for herself when she’s done, showering me in sweet potato spray halfway through the meal.  It’s nights like these I wish I had also worn a bib.

This mesh feeder was a baby shower gift and has become kind of essential.  I put frozen pears in it and she’ll happily chomp away on this thing for 15-30 minutes, sucking the fruit down to nothing but pulp.  Her first week at daycare, her teachers asked us each evening to bring more pears in the following day, since this thing is such an expert soother.  “Mayday, Mayday, more PEARS!”

We still go on lots of walks together and make it to Jefferson Park at least once a week.  I huffed and puffed around this loop dozens of times when I was pregnant – I wonder if Jules was smiling like this in utero?

These days our walks almost always include a detour to the playground – Juliette loves the swings, and it’s a fun way to interact with her on our outings now that she’s facing away from me while in the stroller.  I grab her toes or kiss her cheeks each time she swings toward me and she smiles like it’s the greatest game ever played.

Shane took her down the slide last weekend and she seemed a little perplexed by the whole ordeal, like the ride was over before she knew what had happened.

Now that Jules is too big to be diapered and jammied on the bathroom counter after her bath, we wrap her in her towel and bring her up to the living room for pajama time.  Turns out that she enjoys having a few minutes to “air dry” before we dress her, to roll and squirm and grab her toes to flash us her squishy, dimpled bottom.

We’re still total suckers for that sweet baby giggle, and papa is increasingly hilarious these days.  Tossing a ball behind his back, nuzzling her belly while chanting “bless you!”, pretend-munching on her toes – these have become fan favorites.

I admit, I boasted a bit about our super-advanced baby, rolling over at just two months old.  And then, between months three and six, not a single flip-flop, despite her dad’s daily regimen of tummy time boot camp.  Hmmph.  But as of a couple weeks ago, she’s back on the move!  I can no longer rest with the assurance that she’ll stay right where I leave her if I dart downstairs to grab the laundry or go to the bathroom – I’ll turn my back just for a minute and find her on the other side of the living room rug.

She’s also rolling over in her crib a lot, which either results in her yelling at us to come flip her back over, or her falling asleep on her belly.  She’s hard to resist when she looks directly into the monitor’s camera, like she’s saying “Come get me!”  But we usually let her be and she’s been quickly settling to sleep on her stomach.

Bonus: these new sleeping positions make for a pretty adorable case of bedhead.

She’s talking up  a storm these days, and I love, love, love the sound of her voice.  “B” is the letter of the week.  Funny how she can carry on an entire conversation with just one syllable.

She’s been on the verge of sitting on her own for a few weeks now, holding her balance for several seconds at a time before falling back into my lap, or, if I’m not watching, face-planting on the carpet.  I went to visit her at daycare during my lunch hour yesterday and remarked how well her 6-month old little buddy, baby M, was sitting up on her own.  Apparently Jules was not to be outdone, because when we brought her home last night and set her down on the floor for her daily sitting “practice”, she put her hands on her chubby thighs, held her head high, and sat.  And sat!  She was on her own for a good five minutes before tumbling onto her back.

Happy seven months, silly girl.  Mama loves you.

More and more, our weeks are developing a natural rhythm: Monday-Tuesday-Wednesday are busy-busy-busy with work and daycare and lots of rushing about; Thursday is my treasured me-and-Jules day; Friday I squeeze in a little work from home before getting together with my mama friends and their babies; Saturday Shane and I often pull “shifts” and take turns hanging out with the baby while the other person gets out to run or shop or spend time with friends; and finally there’s Sunday, on which we cap off the week with lots of quality together time and a little Schnell family adventure.  Sunday is our fun day.

Last Sunday we headed east to check out Juanita Bay Park in Kirkland.  Shane had read that the park is a great place to spot wildlife, teeming with birds and beavers and turtles, and that guy loves him some turtles.

The woods were damp and mossy and bright yellow-green, on the verge of fully bursting with new growth.

Juliette dug it.

And so did Shane, thrilled to find a band of turtles sunning themselves on a log…  Although I’m sure Jules had no idea what she was looking at, it was pretty fun to watch her papa excitedly point and say “look, baby!” twenty times over.  When I think about all this girl has yet to discover, all the new experiences we’ll bear witness to, my heart swells with anticipation.

Today was downright balmy with temps approaching 70, so we packed a bag full of snacks and set out for Luther Burbank Park on Mercer Island for some serious sun-gazing.  We staked out a spot on a perfect patch of shade-dappled grass and watched the boats go by.

This is the face of a girl that was born at the start of Seattle’s rainy season and has just discovered that warmer, brighter skies exist.

We walked out on the dock and then hit the playground for a quick spin on the swings.  Far too soon, it was time to head home for naps – we’re adding this park to our list of good-weather favorites.

Sunday, Sunday, SUNday.  So good.

Time for another ten on ten!

Now that Jules is eating more solid food, I’m loving the fact that we can have a meal together.  But I’m seeing now that her carrots with oatmeal look a little sad next to my tea, eggs, brussel sprouts, and yogurt…  At least she doesn’t know what she’s missing yet?

Morning stories.

Naptime (for both of us)!

Post-nap walk in the sun.  So thankful when the stars align and we get weather like this on my days off.

Favorite walking buddy.

Playtime at the park – we spread out a blanket and I unpacked my bag full of books and toys, but Jules was much more interested in watching the big kids run wild on the lawn.

Coffee, cookies, and Colbert during nap #2.  I’ve really missed this extra me-time since returning to work.

Had a boba craving and was excited to discover that Ambrosia opened a store just one lightrail stop away from us.  We shot out the door on a milk tea mission the minute Jules woke from her nap.  I sent La Verne a “boba?” text and she and Nico were also there in a flash.

On our walk home from Ambrosia – the way these dandelions glowed in the evening light made me feel like we’re on the cusp of summer (I know, I’m foolishly getting my hopes up).

The joyous nightly reunion.

We’ve weathered another big change – week one of daycare is in the books and I am so, so glad to have that initial transition behind us.  Juliette was an absolute rock star and has wowed us with her adaptability.  Shane and I, on the other hand, haven’t exactly been a glowing example of cool, calm, and collected…

As I was working my way through Juliette’s daycare supply list last Sunday, labeling her bottles and packing her bag, Shane sighed a deep sigh of resignation and forlornly gazed at Jules as she happily chomped on her stuffed bunny.  You’d think we were about to send our little girl off to college on the east coast from the look on his face.  “I can’t believe we’re just going to hand her off to a bunch of strangers.  She’s going to freak out.”  Ever the shining optimist, that husband of mine.  But he wasn’t saying anything that wasn’t already on my mind.  I mean, really, who were these daycare people?  We’d met them once and we were going to trust them with our daughter all day?  Our daughter, who cries when anyone unfamiliar even stands too close to her?  I faltered for a moment, wondering if I should just call in sick the next day and keep her at home with me.  But that would just be delaying the inevitable.  Ready or not, we had promised ourselves we would give this a go.

We were up extra-early on Monday morning to get ourselves out the door on time, and as I proudly zipped Juliette into her jacket at 7:15 on the dot, I looked up to find a teary-eyed Shane at our side.  Whoa.  I don’t know that I’ve seen him cry since the day we brought Juliette home from the hospital (I, on the other hand, feel like a faucet without an off knob these days).  He took a deep breath and pursed his lips, trying to keep it together but finally letting the tears flow as he murmured about how hard this was, how worried he was about her, how he wasn’t ready to let her go.  I hugged him and did my best to reassure him while spilling a few tears of my own, and then we quickly composed ourselves and headed out the door, stuffing our pockets with Kleenex on the way.  This could get ugly.

We walked into her classroom that morning as another couple was saying goodbye to their infant son.  The mom, who happened to be another architect that I’ve crossed paths with before, sensed our first-day apprehension and kindly assured us, “She’s in good hands here!  This place is the best!”  I looked at her son, who seemed relatively happy in the arms of his teacher.  No head wounds or contagious-looking rashes to speak of.  This might work out, after all.  We sat with Juliette on the floor for a few minutes, surrounding her with toys and making overly enthusiastic statements like “Look how cool this place is!” as our eyes watered and chins quivered.  Eventually, it was time to say our much-dreaded good-byes – I quickly kissed her on the head, ran my fingers through her soft brown hair, told her I loved her.  We barely made it out the door before dissolving into a couple of weeping wrecks.  It’s hard to even put into words how tightly that baby girl holds our vulnerable hearts in her sweet little hands.  And walking away that day, it felt like I was leaving a piece of myself in that classroom.  It was emotional amputation.  And the wound, though invisible, hurt like hell.  I spent the whole morning at work wondering about her, missing her, praying that she’d somehow understand that we hadn’t abandoned her.

I walked/ran the two blocks to daycare at lunchtime, my chest tight with anxiety and excitement as I peered into her classroom.  And wouldn’t you know it, she was fine.  Content, even, as she sat in the lap of one of the teachers.  She smiled when she saw me and it felt unbelievably good to scoop her up and feel her nuzzle into me.  I got the full report and she’d had an ok morning – some tears, but she’d taken a nap and spent plenty of time just sitting back and observing her new environment, eyeing the other babies with lots of curiosity.  She’d taken her bottles on schedule and seemed to be more comfortable with each passing hour.  Ahhhhh, sweet relief!  I played with Juliette for about 15 minutes and then headed back to the office, feeling my anxiety slowly melt away.  Shane picked her up that evening and said she seemed a bit dazed by all the activity and changes, but she was in great spirits when we got home and slept well that night.  We had survived day one!

Tuesday’s drop-off was much less emotional and by Wednesday we were really getting into the swing of things.  I took her out for lunch on Wednesday and we met up with Shane at our favorite Thai restaurant.  It was fun, having a mid-week family date.  Though it seems that Juliette is warming up to her teachers and classmates, it’s pretty clear that papa and I are her all-time favorite companions.

And then it was Thursday, which is quickly becoming my favorite day of the week, chock-full of snuggles and smiles and a trip to the swings.  This letting-go stuff is painful and scary and generally just…sad, but the hanging-on times?  They’re better than ever…

Now that I’m back at work, I’m cherishing my weekends with renewed vigor, seizing any opportunity to get out with Juliette and Shane and enjoy the glimmering signs of spring.  A few highlights:

Last Sunday was gorgeous, so we headed out over to Seward Park in the evening to soak up the day’s final rays.  La Verne happened to be there with Nico and Jack walked over to join us – we spent a little while on the playground, perching our two bewildered kiddos on the teeter totter, and then grabbed a spot on the grass to stretch out and relax.

These kids!  Deep in conversation about….?  The Giants’ prospects this year?  Huggies vs. Pampers?  The crazy crew of parents snapping photos at their backs?

Since I’m only in the office Monday through Wednesday, my weekend gets off to a soft start on Thursday, though I’m still especially eager for Saturday when Shane will be around.  This past Thursday was gray and drizzly and Jules and I were both feeling a little funky after saying good-bye to my mom as she headed back to Oregon, but I rallied and we set out for Jefferson Park in the afternoon.  The playground was deserted, so I took advantage of the open equipment and gave Juliette her inaugural push in the bucket swing.  She dug it!  We’ll be hitting this park hard over the summer.

Friday was another rainy day – perfect weather for a cozy happy hour with the gang at the neighborhood pizza joint.  Gryffin’s smile makes me so happy.

We took a wet walk in the woods at Schmitz Park with the Rust clan yesterday.  We were all muddy-footed and soaked by the time we reached our cars, but the fresh air did us good (and helped pass that long stretch of time between morning and afternoon nap).

The clouds parted today and we drove over to Bellevue to walk the trails at Mercer Slough.  It was beautiful – moss-covered trees and promising little buds and a lovely feeling of quiet.

Spring!

Juliette sporting her latest signature accessories – spit bubbles on her chin and a drool-soaked sweatshirt.  Girl’s got style.

And…over and out.  Happy Sunday from the Schnells.

Whew – week one of my new life as architect/mother is in the bag!  And as with all things baby, it’s been a roller coaster.

I dipped pretty low last weekend as my start date drew near – I got super-nostalgic for time gone by, remembering what it felt like to cradle a newborn in my arms with the promise of six months of maternity leave stretched out in front of me.  I thought about all the mornings we woke up and snuggled on the couch together, Juliette looking up at me as I brightly (ok, sleepily) asked “what should we do today?”  All our trips to the mall, lunch dates with friends, long walks at Alki or Jefferson or Madison Park.  All those loooooong afternoons at home together.  My heart ached at the thought of being away from her for nine or ten straight hours.

And then the tears started flowing – a few glistening drops at dinner on Sunday as I watched Juliette happily bang on the table with her measuring cups, and a veritable waterfall when I put her to bed that night.  Tears morphed into stifled sobs as I kissed my sweet, oblivious baby goodbye on Monday morning and headed out the door with Shane’s arm around my shoulders.  I spent the ride on Lightrail drawing watery-eyed deep breaths, trying like heck to compose myself before facing all my coworkers.  And then I walked into the lobby, our office manager gave me a warm “welcome back”, and I dissolved into a blubbering mess.  I mumbled an apology and spent a few minutes in the bathroom, wiping the running mascara from under my eyes and trying to convince myself that my face wasn’t that splotchy, but the moment I stepped back into the office and was greeted by another kind face, gah!  Total waterworks.  I settled into my desk and pretended to look at my phone whenever anyone walked by, so as to avoid any more awkwardly emotional interactions, but damn it if I don’t have my favorite picture of Juliette on my phone’s home screen, and seeing her face threw me back over the edge.  We had an all-office meeting that morning and I hung out in the back of the conference room, cringing when my principal announced my return and everyone clapped and turned to look at me, all red-nosed and puffy-eyed.  Let’s hear it for the falling-apart new mom in the room!

But I eventually managed to pull myself together.  I organized my desk, got up to speed on my project, and poured myself a cup of coffee.  I sat down, opened up Revit for the first time in what felt like ages, and got to work.  Even amidst the hum of a busy office, I was struck with a strange feeling of stillness.  No looking at the clock, trying to guess how long I would have before Juliette’s nap would end.  No wondering when or how I would find the time to do something “productive” in the non-baby sense (because I still maintain that keeping an infant fed, safe, and smiling is some of the most meaningful work I’ve ever done).  This new space in my life for focus, for problem-solving, for adult communication felt good.  Surprisingly so.

That said, 5:00 couldn’t come soon enough.  I actually slipped out the door at 4:45 and nearly broke into a full-on sprint once I got off the train.  I was dying to get my girl in my arms.  And sweet Jesus, it felt good to see her smile when I walked in the door, to scoop her up, bury my nose in her lavender-scented hair, and squeeze her as tightly as her squishy-but fragile little body could handle.  I got the rundown from my mom and was thrilled to hear that they’d made out pretty well.  Juliette’s naps were a little off that day, but they’d enjoyed a nice jaunt to the neighborhood bakery, read some books, eaten well.  Seems Jules had handled day one better than mama!

Tuesday was tear-free (for me, at least – Juliette was a bit of a handful that day) and by Wednesday I was really starting to believe that we’d found our groove.  I burst through the door on Wednesday evening exclaiming, “Baby!  I’m home!  For the next four days!”  But where was her sheer joy?  Her extra-huge smile?  Her big cuddly hug?  Instead I got fussiness, squirminess, discontent  – three days of short naps and some tummy trouble had caught up with Miss Juliette, and she was one unhappy kiddo.  I put her to bed early and then cried into my salad at dinner, worried that this transition was taking a toll on the baby, despite grandma’s expert TLC.  And I was disappointed that our evening greeting hadn’t lived up to my lofty expectations, in which Juliette would be waiting for me with bated breath and reach for me with arms wide open upon seeing my face; I’d pick her up and twirl her in a field full of daffodils and we’d both laugh like we’d never laughed before.  Apparently she’d missed the memo.

But Thursday was a new day.  We took a good walk together, had a fun coffee date, and after a healthy dose of prune juice, Juliette’s bowels were back on track.  She fell asleep in my arms while nursing and I relished the cuddle time like never before.  All was well again.

Shane and I had an appointment on Friday morning to visit Juliette’s daycare so that we could meet her teachers and go through the daily drill.  We spent some time in her new classroom and she sat happily in Shane’s lap as we chatted with her super-friendly teacher.  Her gaggle of soon-to-be buddies crawled and rolled and cruised on by, and she watched them with interest, hardly batting an eyelash when one little boy reached out to tug on her pigtail.  When the director asked us if we wanted to leave Juliette in the classroom for 15 minutes while we went over some paperwork in his office next door, we figured it would be a great little trial run.  And it was great, for about five minutes – I poked my head in and saw her chomping on a new toy, sitting in a Bumbo while a couple of other babies scooted her way.  Making friends already!  And then we heard her start to cry.  And then we heard her wail.  We both pretended like we were listening to the director’s spiel about the center’s nurturing environment, but we were secretly hoping he would just put a sock in it so that we could go save our seriously distressed child.  The second he finished, Shane shot out the door like a rocket and hopped over the baby gate to scoop Jules into his arms.  Juliette’s teacher had certainly done her best to calm her down, but that girl was fired up.  We held her and shushed her and she quieted after a minute, but this did not bode well.  Come March 31st, we won’t be around to swoop in when she cries.  The thought of her wailing like that, looking for us not and knowing where we are, it’s horrible.  It was enough to send Shane into a desperate search on Friday afternoon for available nannies (though I’m not sure that would really make things any easier).  We’ve talked about it some more and are telling ourselves we need to give this daycare thing an honest shot.  It will most certainly be hard at first, but Juliette will eventually come to love her teachers and classmates, and she’ll learn that papa and I will always be there to pick her up at the end of the day.  I mean, she already has a cubby and a crib and a daily report clipboard with her very own name on it.  There’s no turning back now.

And here we are at Sunday night again, after a pretty perfect weekend together.  A very, very small piece of me is ready to get back to the office tomorrow; a bigger piece of me is dreading three straight days away from my little girl.  But Wednesday will be here before I know it, and then it’s all giggles and daffodils.  Right, Jules?