According to my mom, when I was first shipped off to preschool, I
cried for weeks. I cried when she would drop me off, cried for most
of the rest of the day, and then cried when she would pick me up.
Like father, like daughter. Jada did OK on her first day at our new
day care place. But every other day since, she's cried up a storm
when I've dropped her off in the morning. I guess she didn't know
what was going on the first day, and figured the new place was
interesting enough to hold her attention.
But now that she knows what's going on, she's none too pleased. Her
performance is Oscar-worthy: face bright as a beet, tears pooling down
her face, stomping of one or both feet, and even a dramatic waving of
According to the day care worker, as relayed by my wife, Jada settles
in after a little bit, and the day turns out OK. But even if she were
to cry all day, even for weeks on end, I think I'd have a little soft
spot in my heart for her still. Especially since I know someone else
pretty well who did the same thing when he was her age.