So three days shy of 11 months old, Caroline headed off to her first day of daycare at a center in our neighborhood. Mike and I toured this center when I was 4 months pregnant and we handed in our waitlist deposit check before we even left that day back in October 2016–that was how much we liked this center. The staff, the mission, the setup, the teachers, the orderliness, the fun the kids seemed to have. I knew it would fit our family perfectly.

Fast forward 15 months later, and here we are, after having Caroline with two very loving in-home daycare providers from 5 months old to now. We had a great experience with both providers and the price was certainly right. We always knew we’d transition her to the center, but thought it would be closer to when she was 18 months old. She was ready though–ready for more structure, for more little people to be friends with, for more activities like music class, yoga (?!?), and arts & crafts.

Last week, I called to check in with the center’s director to make sure I had everything we needed for the first day. “Oh, we’re excited to have her!” the director said. “Even her cubby is ready.”

Wait. What? A cubby? A CUBBY?? My baby has a cubby?? How is this possible? Cubbies are for holding things like popsicle stick creations dripping with glue and book reports and sweatshirts you take off on the playground.

I had to call my mom on the way home and say “I need allllll the wine. My baby is old enough to have a cubby.”

Well, I took the weekend to soak that in and by the time Monday morning came, I marched in with Mike and Caroline, determined to handle the cubby situation with maturity and poise. The center smelled like citrus and disinfectant. Classrooms were bright and clean and tidy; chairs were neatly stacked on tables and cute winter-themed decorations adorned the doors. We headed to “Infant 1” and met Caroline’s delightful teachers. We put her food in a cubby, her diapers in another, her milk in another, and her extra clothes in yet a fourth. I kept counting…now we were up to four cubbies…I took deep breaths trying to hold it together. She met a few little friends, all of whom are much younger than her. The teachers played calming, classical music softly…maybe for the parents??

Mike and I headed out, after waving goodbye to our little lady for a solid few minutes. In the parking lot, afterwards, Mike said, “how are you doing? I know you need a hug.” I did, although I was proud of how well I held it together.

And how did our little girl do? Fabulous, of course. We got an email at 5 pm with a recap of the day. No separation anxiety! Played with the learning tower! Ate all her food (surprising no one)! Drank all her milk! Only napped for about an hour total! Ohhhh Sugar Bear. I think our little girl has FOMO (fear of missing out).

Here is her classroom door…I hope they add a Caroline penguin soon!

Here is or little lady, anxiously awaiting her Cheerios breakfast delivery. Look at those starfish fingers. She is ready to get this breakfast party started. (I snuck this picture from outside the classroom door…yes, I suppose I am THAT parent.)

Happy first day of daycare, Sugar Bear!