Cry me a river...

So I wanted to make sure my nephew gets to play with toddlers his own age (although I am probably the best playmate he's ever had, lol!).
So I enrolled him in a local daycare near where I work.

It's a good place, I went and checked it out, asked the director hundreds of questions, researched the center's licencing on the 'net, and interviewed other parents who have their kids there.
The KOTW and I even went and visited so he'd be a little more familiar with the teacher and the other kids.

Today was his first day...I'd talked non-stop about how he's going to his "school" for days, and did the same thing this morning as we headed out, telling him how much fun he'd have, blah blah blah.

The moment we walked through the front door-- the screaming began.

Heart-wrenching wails of dismay issued from his little mouth like a siren. His sweet chubby face looked like a angry thundercloud.

But I managed to peel him off me, and got down with him and told him that I'd be back soon. And then I left him there.

I stood outside listening to him bang his little fists on the door and cry for me to come back -- and I teared up too.

I love this kid, but I'm scared I'm getting too attached...what happens when he has to go leave and home? My heart doesn't even want to consider that right now.

Just a few more hours until I pick him up...I hope he's having a good day.

Toddlers are hard work.

I'm starting to settle into the groove with my nephew...I'll just call him "King of the World."

Well, little Mr. KOTW fell asleep at 9 last night...and woke up at 11, 3, 5, and finally bounced out of bed bright-eyed and bushytailed at 7 am.
I, on the other hand, was not so full of energy...in fact, I'm downright exhausted.
But I'm at work, plugging away, watching the minutes float by until I can leave.

The weird thing is...I can't wait to get home and see him.
And he'll play his musical toy.
And make me dance.

KOTW thinks it's hilarious.
I just love to make him laugh and smile.

Someone help me, I'm his puppet.

I'm freaking out.

My word of the day -- STRESS.

Today is the day my nephew comes to stay with me. Full time. For at least a month or so.
I try to spend quality time with the little man when I can, but I don't have a clue what the hell 18 month olds think about. Do they even think coherently? Or is it just a big bunch of "yes, no mine, gimme", blaaahhhhhh, screaming gurgling sounds inside their tiny minds?

Here's the checklist:

Home babyproofed? Check.
Toddler gates in place? Check.
Enough pampers to wrap up a small army? Double check.
Wipes for his cute baby bottom? Check!

My older brother is laughing his head off at me right now for taking this on.
He was amazed when he came over to see me earlier --'cause I've been cooking. Think
Betty Crocker on crack, I'm going like a damn steam train and I can't slow down.
It's what I do when I feel stressed out.

So far there's caramel brownies, my little bro's favorite double chocolate layer cake, garlic mushroom spaghetti, fresh beer bread, cucumber tomato and mozarella salad, and sloppy joes. For the kid. I know he'll eat that.
Even toddlers like sloppy joes, right?
Oh God, what if he doesn't eat that?

Breathe, remember to breathe.

I love this kid more than my life. I hope he doesn't end up hating me. Or that I warp his mind with my Duran Duran or Daft Punk cd's. Time to change to something more soothing...Marvin Gaye perhaps? Or a nice restful Nat King Cole.
You know, he'd always go to sleep when I rocked him and put on some big band music. Yes, I like big band music, I know I'm freak, thank you very little.


All I know is, I have to stop stressing about this. Or his super funtime cool auntie will turn into "rushed to the ER" auntie in a minute.

I really don't see how you moms do it. I really don't. You guys rock.