We've been having a tough couple of weeks with Avery at school. A lot of her friends have moved up to the next class, having passed the critical milestones of turning three and getting potty trained. Avery is just 2 1/2, and has always been friends with the kids who are older than her, so this is an adjustment, as is getting used to the influx of a bunch of new, younger kids in her current class. (She has absolute and obvious disdain for kids who cry a lot and kids who cannot speak as well as she does, so dropping her off lately has been a lesson both in patience and in effective removal of a kid from various parts of my body.)
Fortunately, her BFF in the whole wide world (Ava) is still in the same class, but she turned three yesterday. Apologies to her parents, but I selfishly hope the kid isn't potty-trained until she's at least 3 1/2 so she and Avery can stay together. Ava usually gets to school later than Avery which sucks, because she really helps ease Avery into the day.
We were in the middle of a toddler-ectomy this morning, when Ava and her dad came in and the heavens opened and the angels sang. Avery totally lit up and the the two girls got all smiley and then Ava came over and hugged her. Of course, I went from lifeline to style-cramper in that time, and as I was walking out, Ava and Avery were toasting each other across the table, saying "cheers" and touching their pop tarts and then dissolving into fits of laughter.
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