A broken heart

You may remember that recently, Kate went back to Mother's Day Out a few times a week, and I began slowly regaining the sanity I lost over summer break. And unlike last year where Kate would scream bloody murder when I handed her over to the nice teacher lady, now Kate wiggles out of my arms as soon as we get in the building and run downs the hall to her classroom in a mad dash to THE FUN. THE FUN AT THE END OF THE HALL!!!

It makes me happy. And it makes me happy to see her when I pick her up. All disheveled and covered in some mystery substance and GLOWING because of all the fun she had during the day. One day I walked up to the door and saw my angel chasing one of the boys around the classroom with her arms outstretched and her little legs pumping and giggles just pouring out of her mouth. Another time I showed up and she was sitting quietly on a carpet square with the rest of the class, in anticipation of snack time (huh, so food bribery DOES work). In those moments, I see her for what she is -- a truly happy little girl and I feel proud and accomplished for my part in that.

Today, in the car as we rode home, I asked her about her day. She babbled on in her secret toddler language for a little bit and I told her I was glad she had fun. Then, I did something I regret -- I asked her a question I really didn't want the answer to.

Me: Kate, you love school. Do you want to go to school MORE?

Kate: (quietly) Yes.

Kate: (louder) Yes.

Kate: (yelling in a happy, joyful, OMG kind of way) YES, YES!!

Me: Do you mean, like, you want to go every day of the week?

Silence.

Kate: (tiny, quiet, reverent whisper) yeeeeeeesssssssssss.

Silence.

(Insert sound of my heart breaking here)