Apparently, the third time's the charm. Emma cried when I left her this morning (it really felt like I was torturing her), but calmed down relatively quickly. When I went to pick her up, she was sitting at the table with all the other babies eating a snack of cucumbers and goldfish crackers. She was happy to see me and didn't cry until we were ready to leave. They spent the morning playing outside and painting. She was covered in paint and just filthy. (Miss Margaret said the rule is the dirtier they are, the more fun they had.) I feel much better.
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