Today marks Hazeline’s one year anniversary at daycare. It was one year ago that I grudgingly carried my pudgy little (okay, technically, she was pretty big) 3 month old into daycare and left her behind so I could return to work. I was a babbling mess. I vaguely remember giving the caretaker in the infant room a combination of my cell phone number and our home alarm code when she asked for my contact information. 
I know how happy and spoiled Hazeline is when she’s at daycare. She loves it. You can see it in the way she interacts with the teachers and how she plays with the other kids in her class. I love all the things they do with the infants (outside time, arts & crafts, songs, etc.), and honestly I don’t know that I would have done all those things with her if I had stayed home. And there’s no better feeling in the world than seeing how excited she gets as she runs to me at the end of the day.
But it’s a sad day because it reminds me how much I’ve missed. All the milestones that have happened while I was at work and she was at daycare. Her first roll, her first solids, and her first steps all happened at daycare, not with me. I mean, I try to pretend that the first time I see her do things is the first time, but I know it isn’t. Time is passing quickly and she’s spending 40+ hours a week at daycare with other people. I hate that.
Greenleigh’s 3 year “anniversary” at daycare is this Friday.
