Daycare? No Probz.

Monday, when I dropped Iain at daycare, he took one look at Donna, stretched out his arms, and smiled. I handed him over and walked away. No crying. He was all, "Yay! Someone fun who does art!"

Yesterday, I am informed he had a very good day, including a nap over in a corner devoted just to him. His other teacher, Sarah, decided that he needed more solitude and protection from noise. So she put his cot in a private corner. Recall two weeks ago when Donna re-arranged her play area because she felt Iain was finding it constrictive. Yeah. He's got the ladies wrapped around his tiny, grubby paw.

Today, he arrived just in time for a second breakfast. Ham, beaten biscuits, and apple sauce. He picked up the spoon (after letting the cook, Susan, feed him a little) and proceeded to apply his attention to the meal. Bye, Mama. Bye. Whatever. See ya.

So I think we've completed the daycare transition. On to the next challenge.