I love change.
That said, I also hate transition.
In other words, I despise the process involved with change. From the frivolous: I love drastically changing my hair, but I despise sitting to get braids, growing out bangs, etc. To the serious: I love salvation, but sanctification is tough for me (God, why can't we be perfect in one fell swoop?)
And so, this has been a rough couple of days for me. Baby girl is doing quite well in daycare; She has been playing and learning and eating and sleeping well. Her momma, on the other hand, is having a harder time. I'm fine when she's at daycare. In fact, I got more done before noon on Wednesday than I had gotten done in the three weeks prior. I have been reading and writing and cleaning and running errands unencumbered. Plus, I'm looking forward to passionately engaging with adults once I begin working again. However, when Baby Girl comes home it is a different story. She is figuring out what it means to be home with me--and only me--for just a few hours before bedtime. She has been clingy and fussy and tired and nothing I do, short of going outside to play for two hours, helps. I miss my sweet little lovely. I await her return. And until then, I will be patient and extend grace to her, and to myself. For it is grace that gets us through moments of transition...