Yesterday. Today. Tomorrow.

Yesterday, I had a migraine.
I practically skipped into Panera this morning, so delighted was I that my 34-hour migraine was finally gone. The whole morning, actually, was just joyful. I didn’t mind getting out of bed, letting him help make the cocoa, packing his lunch. We didn’t even have to do battle over getting dressed (granted, today is Pajama Day at school, so it was just a matter of swapping out one flannel outfit for another) or getting shoes on. Instead of an ultimatum or threat, I offered a hug when he was distraught over having to transition from watching Peppa Pig to getting into the car. Being headache-free is wildly underrated. I take it for granted 29 days of the month. But not today. (And for those concerned, mother-types: I am looking into alternative treatments.)

Today is Pajama Day.
So. Yeah. It’s Pajama Day at The Who’s school. This is something I used to witness from afar last year when he was in the Toddler room, but now that he’s in the Preschool room, he gets to take part. If there is one thing my Who loves, it’s wearing jammies. He often asks to wear jammies for his nap and would really prefer to wear them all day, every day. This school “holiday” was made for him. (Add to the fact that they are getting a visit from a firefighter at school and the whole day is damn near perfect.)

Tomorrow we have swimming.
The Who started swimming lessons when he was ten months old. I love the Y for this. Their parent/kid swimming classes were just the thing to get The Who used to the water so that when we joined the neighborhood pool this past summer, he was a pro. We took lessons almost straight through, session after session, until June and then we took a break. Now we’re back. It’s the last class (I think) before The Who graduates to lessons without a parent in the big, cold pool. (Now, we’re still in the “therapy” pool, which is warm like bath water.) I can’t decide if I am looking forward to that graduation or not. On the one hand, how delightful will it be to not have to suit up, shower, and get dry before tending to the wet kid? But on the other hand, my baaaaaaabbbbyyyyyyy! The Who is our one and only and so I’m never comforted by the thought of getting to do the baby stuff with the next kid coming down the pike. And I’m finding that this age — almost three — is coming with a lot of endings and transitions. Diapers, naps, crib, mama-and-me swimming class — it all ends around this time. I get it. I’m prepared for it. And in a way, I’ve been waiting for it. But, y’know. *sigh*

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