break. my. heart.

In the 15 months Cooper has been going to daycare, there have only been a handful of times that he's done that thing that all mommies dread: cry out for you when you walk away. Each time has created a small crack in my heart, but today that crack turned into the grand canyon.

Coop has been in a "mommy mood" for the last week. He's cutting three teeth and, for the most part, he's miserable, which means he wants mama.

I took him into his classroom today and a couple of the other kiddos came right up to him, ready to play. Usually this is a good sign. Other ankle biters mean so long mama, hello play time.

However, this was not the case this AM.

Coop wrapped his little arms around my legs and buried his face into my thigh. I knelt down beside him, gave him a big bear hug and told him how much I loved him. Then, a distraction that typically works when all else fails, I took him over to the slide and set him on the top of it and quickly walked away. He started crying. Started calling out, "mama! maaaaaaamaaaaaa!" I turned back and blew him a kiss and watched, briefly, as the huge crocodile tears rolled down his cheeks and soaked his orange shirt.

I snuck out the door and angled for position so that I could see Coop through the glass, but he couldn't see me. His teacher was comforting him and he seemed to be calming down. Who-hoo.

I who-hoo'ed too early.

I walked outside and glanced over my shoulder and a bright jolt of orange caught my eye. There, in the window, was Cooper. He had his tiny palm pressed against the glass and he was staring at me, his eyes as huge as blue dinner plates.

I mustered all my mommy mojo and smiled (it was fake) and waved, hoping my "excitement" would jump through the window and reach him.

It didn't.

Coop didn't smile back. Didn't wave back. He just stared. He seemed so sad. So incredibly, heartbreakingly sad. And my heart broke at the sight of him.

I got in the car, his eyes following my every move, his hand still on the glass. I blew him another kiss and drove away. Letting my crocodile tears soak my shirt.

I'm sure by now that he's fine. I'm sure he's running around like a wild man, having the time of his life and has completely forgotten this morning.

If only mommy's minds could reset so easily.