Room For Error

This morning I went to a preschool fair.  You might be thinking that I must be crazy, Bitty is not even eleven months old, why on Earth am I thinking about preschool.  But around here, the options are plentiful and diverse and the waiting lists can be long.  Rest assured, I have no intention of enrolling her in preschool until she's three...or maybe I might consider it at two-and-a-half if we have another baby in the picture by then.  Consider today more of an exploratory, fact finding mission.

Bitty and I perused the tables of preschools showcasing their programs for about forty minutes.  Or rather, I perused, while she focused on kicking her shoes off about five billion times.  Within ten minutes of our arrival, she made it perfectly clear that this was not how she intended to spend her morning.  But if I managed to keep moving and not stand still for too long, Bitty was distracted enough to avoid a meltdown.

I left with a fairly significant handful of brochures and information pages, and just in the nick of time.  Bitty had run out of patience for this nonsense.  I hurried to the car, and set my stack of papers on the roof in order to free up my hands to buckle her in.  Bitty really hates the car seat these days, and in her mind, this morning was going from bad to worse.  First I had her strapped into the ergo,and now the car seat.  No matter how often she fusses, I still have anxiety when she does and it still throws me off my game.  I tried to be quick and scurried around to the drivers' side, hopped in, and hurried home. 

I put Bitty down for her nap when we returned and then settled in to look over all of the paperwork I had gathered at the fair.  Except I couldn't find it.  Not in the diaper bag, not in the car...and then I realized--I left the stack on the roof while I was buckling Bitty in and then drove away.  So typical.