the gazes of three year olds.

There is something uniquely bone-chilling about the betrayed, horrid look in a little girl's eyes as her mother exits the room. 

Unless you're inhuman, it cuts to the core.

There is also something amazingly heartwarming to see the delighted eyes of a three year old as she plays, independently, in a group of children; smiling and saying, "Hi Mommy!".

My little girl did so well today.  Her return to preschool, this time, was triumphant instead of traumatic.  The report from her therapist was encouraging.  Our preparation was worth it; we saw the fruit of it today.  She is beginning to manage her environment.

She's not perfect, of course.  There are miles to go before we sleep (a nod to Robert Frost).  She needs assistance following directions and joining the groups.  She needs help with transitions and with social interaction. 

But she's doing it.  She's doing it!  Thank you, Lord.

How will she do when she has a brother?