About a month ago, I finally broke down and had to put my dear spoiled (in the best way...haha) baby into daycare twice a week. I found this amazing Iranian woman who runs a daycare out of her home and is open to cloth diapering and whatever other hippie nonsense I have researched and decided is necessary. It has been an interesting adjustment. When I was pregnant I (perhaps naively) thought it would be possible to be at home or school with the baby and still get work done. At first it was feasible since I have to admit, I was blessed with a remarkably easy baby. He likes to eat and nap for the most part, does both without much complaint. The problems arose when he started wanted to roll, crawl, play, poke the dog, etc. It just became too hard to focus long enough during nap time to be productive.
Hence the daycare. It was a remarkably hard decision. There are costs involved (both financial and emotional). I needed to do work. I have a dissertation to write, classes to teach and research to conduct. But it felt (and still feels) selfish. Was I tossing this little man into an unknown world just so I could get some work done? That seemed so petty. But the bottom line was, it needed to happen and so the next step became finding a place that I felt comfortable with. That part was actually easier than I had expected since I had a recommendation. The woman is lovely. She's sweet to my son and gives me hourly updates about every song they sing and puree he eats. I fully trust that he is in good hands.
Liking where he is makes dropping him off easier but it is still hard to knock on that door and hand him over.
