We've missed a lot of celebrations this summer. Milestones. Things that, if life hadn't been so hectic, I would have liked to have taken the time to acknowledge.
Playette's birthday, my birthday, our wedding anniversary, etc.
Today another one hit me: Playette
Is done with her daycare. Like, forever.
Even though last school year she participated in the Pre-K program, it was still at the same location with people who have been great with her, and us, for the last year plus. She loved her teachers and the friends she made there and they loved her back.
But the problem is that our movers jerked us around a bit (who packs a truck that needs maintenance anyway?!) and Playette came home with a fever on Tuesday.
That meant she stayed home on Wednesday and instead of her last day being Thursday or Friday like we had planned, we were told that our household goods would be delivered early and we jumped to rush and leave town in time.
As it turns out, no rush was necessary and we spent another two nights In a hotel.
Most importantly, she never got to say goodbye.
There were no hugs or tears or lunch for the staff or (as I considered one day when I was feeling both extremely grateful and ambitious) a really good cake with the center's logo on top.
I mean, I wasn't going to make it, but I would have ordered the heck out of it from a really good bakery.
I really do feel bad about the whole scenario. But it was all such a blur at the end. I'm still kinda in shock.
I hope that I haven't (further) traumatized my child.
I'm going to start trolling playgrounds and find her some friends.
That's totally normal, right?