It’s 2:30 in the afternoon and my house has been quiet for the last three hours. For three hours I’ve been able to work on some deadlines, read some news, and breath.
You see, Saffron is napping. Evan has bounced between playing in the backyard, and visiting friends. And Trey … is not here. He’s in (dun dun dun) daycare.
Three days a week, for about four hours each day, Trey visits the hose of a very nice older woman. There he plays with about five other kids of various ages, has snacks, watches a cartoon, and generally has a great time. There’s a huge yard full of toys and trikes, a play room overflowing with toys, and a little kitchen with child sized tables and chairs.
I think I agonized over admitting this as much as I did sending him. Among some of the more natural-aimed parents, daycare is about as popular as kicking puppies. No, kicking puppies might actually be more popular. Some of the blogs I read, though p to their eyeballs full of recipes and crafts and information, have huge pockets of crap to fling on mothers who don’t give 110% to their kids every single waking moment.
I know, cause I used to be part of that shit too. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.
There’s about a dozen reasons why I made this choice. I need time to work and earn an income, and Trey needs more attention right now than I can give him while holding down a budding writing career. Evan has a ton of older friends to play with, but Trey has been pretty left out lately.
He cried two days in a row that “No one will be my best friend, mommy” when the older kids excluded him. To be fair, they were playing a game that he wasn’t getting and required more patience than he has. Still, it broke my heart. Today, he ran in to the house and hugged two little girls before grabbing a bucket of blocks to build with. I didn’t even get a good-bye, but it felt wonderful to see him playing along with others.
In a few minutes Saffron will be getting up, and Evan will be back, and I’ll close down the computer, get in the car, and drive a couple blocks over to pick up a happy little boy. And the quiet I had now will make me a happy mom. And life will be good.
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Christine
on Jun 4th, 2010
@ 5:15 PM:
Ohhhhh, how I adored Mother’s Day out, and then when Mac and Andrew were in daycare three days a week. It was my “grandparents.” I had so many friends whose parents or siblings were close and around and they all just swapped kids and houses and could go out with their spouse weekly and … WTH?
I finally realized why I was burning out. I simply did not have that, and WOULD not have that. I had to MAKE that. I had to pee alone occasionally. I had to sit and hear nothing, if I chose to.
I had to NOT go insane. So, I found a way to have a break. And the kids loved it. Sometimes I had to volunteer once a month at Mother’s Day Out to be able to afford it.
I hated that one day of volunteering. HATED IT, but … totally. worth. it.
Christine´s last blog ..To which I bow my hat and let my reader write
Lisa
on Jun 5th, 2010
@ 4:40 PM:
Even though I was against it for years I put my son in a pre-school program around the corner from our house to give him some socialization.
When I took him out to the park or play dates he didn’t know how to play with others or even start a conversation. Pre-school a couple days a week has given him some time to meet new friends and learn new things and it’s given me time to grocery shop with out 2 screaming kids fighting in the cart.
Completely worth it!
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