(I started this post days ago. Ever think time is passing slowly? Start a blog. You won't believe how fast time flies between posts ;))
We had a perfectly lovely day. Until 630pm. Before that, I ran a 5k here in town, in the most perfect weather. After my race, we had my mom, my sister, my niece and nephew, and my mother-in-law over for a terrific cook out, also in perfect weather. The macaroni salad was just right, the burgers were perfect, and the sangria was wonderful.
And then everyone left, and Jeb had the meltdown of his life. He raged until he was hoarse. It was agony for all of us.
He's been going through something in the last few weeks. When he was 8 months old, I rhetorically asked a friend "what happened to my delightful 7 month old?" She said -- "it's a developmental bitch fest". I thought it was the most brilliant phrase I'd ever heard. Sometimes these small children are growing/learning/developing so freaking fast they can't even handle it. So, Jeb may be going through a developmental bitchfest right now, or it may be the (difficult for all of us) transition into daycare, or like many other times I may never know what it is and we'll just live through it.
In any case, this child is having MAJOR separation issues. He used to be okay with me going to work in the evenings, now he wails for an hour. He is glued to my side when I am home. He's always been a clingy kind of kid, but this is extreme.
I don't mind him needing me more at times, I just hate not knowing what is going on. Or what he needs specifically. Or where to draw the line between being sensitive to what he's processing, and coddling. Two days a week, I have to tell him sorry, baby, you have to go to daycare today even though you don't want to. It's hard. For everyone.
That cliche about kids needing to come with hand books? So. True. I feel like I am winging it most of the time, and then I worry that Jeb will pick up on the fact that I am winging it and that will make him feel insecure. Meta-anxiety. Awesome.