Regression

Today was the first day ever in her life that Rosalind has thrown a clinging-throwing herself on the floor-crying meltdown when she got dropped off at daycare. I had just read something that said 18 months to 3 years is the age of separation anxiety, but I hoped we would completely pass that up. I think this was a one time kind of thing since she has gotten used to daddy dropping her off about two hours after I did this morning and he always feeds her before he leaves her. Anyway, that is what I hope because I can only laugh at my brokenhearted daughter so many times as I wave bye bye before I might feel slightly bad.