This morning I went out to take care of the ducks as I do every morning. I opened the pen and stood to the side as they splashed into their kiddie pool. I filled their food container and set about hosing down the rocks at the bottom of the pen.
As one section began to clear I saw a rather white rock, smooth and round amidst the tan color of the other rocks. As water ran off I realized the rock was larger than the other rocks.
That's when I realized it wasn't a rock at all. It was an egg.
Buttons laid an egg.
I panicked a little. I wasn't sure what to do. It was an egg just sitting there in the rocks. Buttons wasn't sitting on it and I had just washed it in cold hose water. That seemed bad.
It dawned on me that people collect eggs from their chickens and ducks, so I carefully picked it up and brought it inside when I was done.
When my husband woke up I told him about the egg. He told me it probably wasn't a good idea to just take the egg in plain view of the ducks because it makes me a predator (and let's face it, they already run from us).
Here was the first egg and I felt like I ruined it, maybe even ruined the whole people-duck relationship. I cried.
My husband noticed and put on a worried face as he asked, "Are you crying about the duck egg?"
Yes, I was. But it wasn't just that.
Today was the first duck egg. But it is also my two-and-a-half year old's first day of nursery school.
His first day of school. Ever.
I was really excited about it until yesterday. For both of us. I was excited for him because he would get to play with other kids, run around on a cool playground, and maybe do some new activities. When we visited the school a month ago, he loved it. He ran right in and began playing.
I was excited for me because I could dedicate some hours each week to my work- without distraction.
Then yesterday afternoon, someone said a few things that made me question whether this was a good idea. I began wondering if I was a bad mom for sending my child to nursery school rather than keeping him at home.
Ultimately, I'm sure he'll be fine. Many kids (including me when I was little) go to some sort of daycare or nursery school. I'm prepared for him to get sick at the beginning because I hear that's a common problem upon introducing kids to school (and therefore more germs). I'm prepared for him to act a little different as he figures out what the heck is going on.
It's two days a week. Two days to be in a different environment, play with others, learn from others (for better or for worse). The other three days during the week he'll be at home with me. I *think* it's a good situation. And, if it's not, we'll change it.
I think it will make me a more attentive mother. Instead of multi-tasking all day every day, I will have work days and home days. I even plan to break up my home days into chore days and adventure days. We'll see how it goes.
I'm hoping he'll love me and his dad that much more when we go pick him up this afternoon. But maybe he'll be mad. Or maybe he'll just be quiet.
Either way, starting today, things will be different. My son will have more exposure to the outside world and its influences. Buttons will probably lay more eggs.
I don't know what any of this means. I'm not sure how to deal with any of it. As with all things, I'll take it one day at a time. One minute at a time, if I have to.
I will get through this day of firsts and all the days that follow.
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