in which the Internet will judge me for listening to the pop radio station with my toddler

This morning started off like most of our weekdays. Out of bed, get Catie a sippy cup of milk, start to get dressed, pause for a toddler tantrum over some tiny injustice (in this case, it was because she wanted a piece of the candy that my mom sent home from New Orleans with her, and I told her she couldn’t have it until after breakfast, because I am a cruel & horrible tyrant), try to finish getting dressed, get Catie’s daycare bag together, out the door and off to daycare in a reasonable time frame. It’s like a daily marathon.

Today, before we left, we talked about how tomorrow, her daycare will be closed (for Good Friday), but Mommy and Daddy still need to work, so would she like to go to drop-in daycare instead? Her response: “Yeah, that’d be awesome!” Note to self: need to watch the valley girl slang in front of the toddler. I don’t know if her daycare teachers are amused or annoyed when she calls them “Dude.”

We finally set off for daycare, and listened to the radio in the car and talked; she was confused by the lyrics to “Telephone” by Lady Gaga.
Catie: “Why she can’t* want to talk anymore?”
Me: “Because she just wants to dance, sweetie, she doesn’t want to talk on the phone.”
Catie: “Yeah, I can’t want to talk on the phone while I dancing.”
Me: “Nope, me neither.”

* Random: Catie’s been doing this for a while now, but I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned it. She never says, “I don’t want X,” it’s always “can’t.” Like, “I can’t want to take a bath,” “I can’t like eggs,” etc. I don’t know where that comes from, but it always cracks me up.

So, you know, pretty much a typical morning for us. Then we turned onto the street where her daycare is located.

Catie: “I can’t want to go to daycare class.”
Me: (stomach sinking and thinking I confused her by mentioning drop-in daycare earlier and oh lord, she’s going to have a meltdown and this is going to suuuuck) “What do you mean, babe?”
Catie: “I can’t want to go to daycare class anymore. I go to preschool class with da big kids.”
Me: “Oh. Um. Well, let’s ask and see, ok?”

We walked in, and I spotted the director of the center. I asked her if it was ok for Catie to go into the preschool class today. She said, “Oh yeah, she spent most of the day in there yesterday, I think she’s ready to transition over to that class now.”

We headed into the new classroom, and all the kids were like, “Hey, Catie is here!” It was like the 3 year-old equivalent of Cheers. (“NORM!!!”) She gave me a kiss good-bye, and bounced off to play with her new “big kid” friends.

Catie on the stairs

And so it goes. Another milestone, another tiny piece of my heart. I am so, so proud of my girl.

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