The Daycare Transition

This is the close of our second week of part time daycare.

We are, of course, paying full time, regardless of how long he is there every day (5 hours), because daycare is impossible to find--especially for kiddos younger than one year old--and you do whatever you must do to secure and keep a spot if you are working parents. It is also a miracle we even HAVE a spot in daycare, but we do, so the gods were smiling on us a bit this year after all (depending on your daycare beliefs, I guess).

Eric commented once that what we are paying is quite expensive, but I'm not going to share that with anyone who lives in a larger city. I know what daycare cost for my niece and nephew outside of Boston, and my brother and sister-in-law might suggest highway robbery should we tell them.

The first question I have been asked after sharing that the little man started daycare has been: "How did it go?"

This is usually followed up with..."...for both of you?"

Him first.

I will not lie that it was a rocky transition, not made easier by the fact that the very first day required an early pickup and immediate transfer to the hospital for a cardiology check-up. It was also coming off of a weekend visit from grandparents full of lots of activity (in 3 month old standards). So...perhaps a parenting fail in some sense.*

*However, when you are offered an appointment time with the cardiologist, you just take it and worry about the scheduling consequences later.

A brief interlude to describe the cardiology visit, best summarized by the doctor (who we love) asking, "Is there anything I can do to help you?" as she watched me, with my unwashed hair but attempted dress in 'real clothes' drop the top of his bottle (twice), experience a massive spit-up all over my pants and the floor, change two poopy diapers, and try to calm the screaming (him, not me) that could be heard at the check-in desk. (Yes, they told me on the way out.) 

Back to daycare.

So, although the beginning was rough, by Friday he wasn't "crying as much" (to quote the lead caregiver in his room), so we considered that a win. He still wailed when I picked him up but was usually calm by the time he got to the car. (I choose to believe this was stress relief crying--something I 'learned about' from Call My Agent! so which may not actually be a thing--and not sadness at going home with me.)

Now, in week two, he is eating well, being called 'adorable,' and taking massive naps (after being worried about him not sleeping last week)---although the napping might be chalked up to the current nighttime sleep regression situation that I will have to write about separately. It's too much. I'm too tired.

They do a good job of updating his activity throughout the day, something I've been told I will stop caring about eventually but for now I constantly monitor to know if he is sleeping and pooping and all the important stuff moms apparently worry about when they have an infant. They also send lots of pictures showing practice with various fine and gross motor skills that usually also have Henry displaying extreme pout-see above--evidence of crying, or just overall confusion about why on earth it is important for him to feel the texture of a sponge. (OK, they aren't ALL bad...) 

These all come very quickly which leads me to believe the flurry of activity may not occur all throughout the day, but since he is only there for 5 hours, time will have to tell on that. [We continue to transition to full time throughout August...]

So, how am I doing (aside from constantly checking the app while he is there)?

I had less of a hard time actually leaving him than I thought, but I do believe this has something to do with my need, from day one of his life, to be able to entrust him to other people for his well-being. I basically said good-bye to him the minute I gave birth. I miss him while he is there, and find it hard to have motivation to do the work I *should* be doing, wanting instead to have him around. Certainly it is nice to go to the grocery store at my leisure or sit down to write a blog post, but it is definitely an adjustment. How quickly we get used to always having the little person around to take care of, and how quickly it has become difficult to know what to do or who we are without him. As my friend Lindsey said, "this might have something to do with the identity crisis we all go through." She's probably right. While I am looking forward to teaching again, and returning to my role as a professor, I also am worried about how to be a mom, too. When will I have special time with him if he is at daycare all day and by the time we pick him up it is practically bedtime? What if he doesn't love me as much? (Yes, this is a serious worry. It might be totally bizarre and unrealistic, and I struggled with this more when we were considering a nanny, but it is definitely a fear.) How on earth am I going to keep up with all this pumping and breastmilk storage and bottle labeling? (Slightly less serious, but truly an added task to the day that will be made more complicated once I am back at work.)

But of course, right now he is only there for half of the day. We still have our snuggles and play time in the early morning, and snuggles and play time in the afternoon.

So, I'm doing OK with daycare itself, but the ultimate balance of going back to work? I'm not so sure about that yet.