cirque du bebe

Today was lil’ Monkey’s first day at his new in-home daycare. I didn’t get much sleep last night. I haven’t been lately due to work, DH’s snoring and my inexplicable inability to go to sleep! And as if he knew, Monkey woke up at 2:00 a.m. and then again at 6:45 (I was hoping for 7:30). He was fussy all morning leading up to me dropping him off. Perhaps he detected my anxiety.

As we pulled into the driveway of the caregiver’s home (whose name will from now on be Miss D), I felt my chest tightening and my eyes were just on the edge of getting teary. I took him out of the car and we headed inside where her one little boy (who is 16 months old) and another little boy (I think he was around 2) were playing. I put Monkey on the ground as I explained what I had packed for him.

Nearing the end of my conversation with Miss D, I leaned down to pet the head of my little baby boy as he played with the other boys. I was happy that he was so eager to just jump in and take part in the banging of objects on the floor. As I backed away, he started to fuss (guess he caught on) and Miss D swiftly picked him up which appeased him straight away. She smiled at me and I just sensed that this was my cue to “exit stage left”. We quickly wrapped up our conversation and I headed out the door. More like sprinted. I felt bad afterwards but I think she understood. Would Monkey understand?

I got to the car and stifled the tears a little bit longer until I was about halfway down last the dirt road that leads to her house. Then the water works. All the way to Arby’s (about 15 minutes) when I decided that I better “get it together” prior to ordering my chocolate milkshake and egg and cheese croissant. Yes, it was 9 in the morning but this nutritional nightmare of a breakfast was my self-soothing agent at this point. (Although I have been craving milkshakes lately. If it weren’t for the two negative pregnancy tests I’ve recently had I’d be worried.)

Once home it was hard to work. I was scatterbrained and realized how empty the house felt. Then my employer’s VPN was down so I couldn’t work on my “critical” project. Working on my other project proved tedious as well. So eventually I took a 45 minute nap. Couldn’t sleep any longer than that. But at least by the time I got up, the VPN was working again.

I started to realize how my behavior while home has changed since having Monkey. I’m really conscious of my voice level and other noises. I quickly realized that now I can play music while working without headphones and the monitor turned up sitting on my desk in front of me. I can pee without having to worry if the flush will wake him up. I can get drinks and food without creeping up and down the stairs like a burglar. This is GOOD!

Then Miss D sent an update stating that Monkey went down for his morning nap with relative ease. I like Miss D.

After I ate my lunch and began working again, Miss D sent another update with pictures of Monkey in a high chair having some of his puffs. He was smiling. In another picture he was crawling around on the floor and looked quite content. Okay, now I love Miss D. This is fantastic.

By the time I had to leave our house to pick up Monkey, I was really getting on with work well.

As I went up to the door of Miss D’s house to pick Monkey up, I wondered if he would be angry with me or not care or smile or what. She answered the door with him in her arms and he seemed to not recognize me at first. Once I came in, she handed him to me and he smiled finally.

Miss D and I talked about Monkey’s day. He pulled a girl’s hair (I’m pretty sure this was the hair of our dentist’s daughter). He bumped his head. And Miss D’s son, who is walking now, seemed to really like crawling on the floor beside him. Aw, Monkey made friends! YAY!

I feel better about this whole thing now. I think this will really help both of us expand and strengthen our relationships. Did I mention how much I like Miss D?

As I mentioned in a post from last week, we were going to meet with someone about taking care of lil’ Monkey for a few days a week. We went to meet her last Friday and she is wonderful. More than we could have hoped for, really. Tom expected a woman just sitting on a couch stuffing her face with food while kids ran around the house, so his expectations were low to begin with. However, I had high expectations and she met them all.

She’s cordial, flexible but not a pushover (we gathered this from a discussion of having to let a couple know that she could no longer watch their child due to their scheduling difficulties). Her house is beautiful, although it is located in a remote area whereby you’d need an SUV to get there (we have one, so we’re covered!). It’s on a large piece of property so we’d have no concerns about him getting hit by a car (once he starts walking and playing outside). Most of the kids she watches are either her own or from people she knows from church or the neighborhood. She’s the kind of person, I quickly gathered, that I wouldn’t mind knowing outside of the caregiver/parent realm and that is a good thing.

So I’m really happy we finally found a solution to my working schedule woes. Yet, I know I’m going to be sad on Monkey’s first day there. I’m figuring on crying for about a half hour afterwards so I’m trying to not schedule any conference calls or anything for that time.

It’s just odd for me to think about someone else giving him a bottle, changing his diaper, etc. on a regular basis. Not to mention, that even though I know she’ll keep a really good eye on him, lil’ Monkey will inevitably come home with a scrape or bruise from climbing or crawling or just playing with the other kids. I probably “baby” him a little too much here at home, constantly watching his every move, ready to catch him when he falls (he’s been climbing a lot lately, stairs included). So I keep reminding myself, “This will be good.” This will toughen him up a little about being so rambunctious with climbing, hair pulling or biting (hopefully this won’t get him kicked out of her daycare).

Plus, one of the things I learned from the Sippy Cup book was that mommy AND baby both need time apart. This will help us both appreciate each other more. Maybe he won’t feel the need to rip all of my hair out while feeding. Maybe that’s asking too much, but I can dream, right?