Thursday, May 24, 2007

If You Leave Me Now

Daycare. The scourge I have dreaded for 8 months is finally a reality. I stayed with Millie her first two days. It was actually only two hours each day, THANK GOD. I don't think I could have hacked a full day of: a) being stuck in one room b) feeling like the worst mother on earth because my baby has no patience for waiting her turn c) watching the other charming but snotty-nose, diarrhea-laden kids trade swap spit via toys with my daughter d) lurking over the providers, feeling like I was totally invading their space and spying and e) resisting the urge to pick up all the other children who wanted attention.

Yesterday, I stayed for an hour and then it was time for me to leave her for two hours on her own. Okay, not on her own, but with two capable adults. Our strategy was planned: I would leave when she was ready to eat lunch-one of her favorite activities. Guaranteed to be a tears-free activity. Hahahahahahahahahahaha. Wait. Hahahahahahahaha. Okay. I'm done.

I said goodbye to her and tried like hell not to cry in front of her. The assistant director was at the front desk and took one look at me and I burst into a combination of laughter and tears. Okay, just tears, but laughter worked its way in in an effort to not look like a loooon. I stopped to talk to her for a moment and could hear Millie crying in her room. So, like the big girl I am, I scurried out the door, past the happy, playing kids and cried in my car. I haven't eaten lunch without either feeding or otherwise occupying a baby, talking on the phone, cleaning the house, or doing school work in 8 months, so I treated myself to lunch at a sandwich shop then took some schoolwork to the park behind the center. My husband called to see how things were and had the NERVE to ask me to tell him how I was feeling. DAMNED HIM!!!! I had composed myself and there I was, blubbering all over again. How DARE he want me to be in touch with my feelings. I'm Finnish-we don't do that. So, I get off the phone with him and think about what I need to do with our afternoon once I pick her up. Not two minutes later, the phone rings and it's my mother-in-law, asking if I wanted company later in the afternoon. We are working on getting Millie used to her (and vice versa), so I said SURE! My husband does that-he will send out the SOS signals to whoever he can-his parents, my parents, my aunt-whenever he knows I'm upset. Sometimes it helps and sometimes I'd just rather wallow in my loserdom.

Anywho, I drove back to the center to get my dearest daughter. Not a pretty morning, from what I gather, was had by anyone. The two caregivers in her room tried to calm her down. The assistant director tried. The director tried. She wasn't having any of it. She used to be a stinker for the babysitter when it came to taking a bottle, so I wasn't surprised she wouldn't take any milk, but it is unheard of for her not to eat. I think she'd eat fruit from Satan if he/she offered it to her. She finally ate just before I came. We went home and I nursed her, then proceeded to run around the house trying desperately to clean up before my mother-in-law showed up. Of course, the ONE time we actually have guests the night before and I decide to not do the dishes immediately has to coincide with Grannie coming for a visit. She's good about things like that-I think she agrees that there are more important things in life than having a spotless house, but STILL. She came and Millie was happy all afternoon for the most part. She didn't go to her Grannie, but didn't scream when she saw her, like she used to (that wasn't TOO uncomfortable). We had a tough evening, but she survived.

Today was day #2. Is this post as boring as I think it is? I feel like I have the verbal shits. Sorry. Feel free to wander off and check out the YouTube clips of Rosie O'Donnell scratching the eyes out of the Young Republican co-host on the view. I'm sure it's more entertaining. Millie did a wee bit better today, although I got the look from everyone as I came in. There's HER mother. She ate for them, but screamed her way through it. She was in the stroller when I got there by herself-not a great sign. What a big, giant faker she is. The minute she saw me she cried. The minute I picked her up, she was all cheezzzy grins. I missed her. I did, however, go shopping at Kohl's to find some cooler clothes to squeeze my increasing fat rear end into. I scored two pairs of pants for a total of $16 AND a pair of Sketchers sandals marked down from $44 to $19!!! SCORE!!!! I had to throw THE best pair of Sketchers sandals out last fall after Millie was born because with my pregnancy kankles, they were one of two pairs of shoes I could fit into. Tomorrow, she goes back for three more hours in the afternoon. Hopefully, it will get better with time. We'll see. Keep your fingers crossed for us.

Labels: , , ,


Blogger Damselfly said...

Wow. Sounds awful. My boy's the same age, and sometimes I think about what it would be like to take him to daycare.

What would be worse, though: that she missed you or didn't miss you?

9:53 PM  
Blogger Kris said...

Her not missing me would be way worse for me. But a Godsend to the rest of the center and Millie? Perhaps.

10:54 AM  
Blogger Amber said...

I don't envy you. I think that would be the toughest thing about working out of the home. Hopefully she will adjust...and FAST!

5:23 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home