As I mentioned in yesterday’s post, last week was really hard. On Monday, we dropped Sheffield off to start daycare. I held him in his rocking chair before leaving, just crying. Crying because it was going to be my first day in three months where he was going to be taken care of by a stranger. Crying because I was no longer going to be the one with him during the day. I wasn’t going to get those sweet little baby naps on my chest, or get to feed him, or play with him.
We toured the daycare, and all the teachers were so nice. The kids were well-mannered and polite. It hit me during the tour, and I cried. I cried during the tour, as I held onto Sheffield. I cried in her office when we made the decision that I needed one more week before handing him over. And then I cried on the way home — I also stopped for Chick-Fil-A, because dammit, I deserved it.
To say that I am sick of the debate over SAHM vs. working mom would be an understatement. I read something that actually called working moms selfish and irresponsible. It said moms (and only moms) were responsible for taking care of the children, because we brought them into the world, and we were horrible people since we were just passing them off hastily to strangers. I’ve already explained why I’m continuing to work — I want the best possible life for my child. I want him to have everything he needs. I want him to not worry about college funds — I want to buy him a car when he turns sixteen. If we want to go on a trip, or if I want to give him something a little special, I don’t want it to be a big deal. I don’t want to have to worry about where his next bottle or diaper box is going to come from, and I want to continue living in the amazing school district that we’re in.
Please, someone, tell me how that is selfish.
Of course, I want to be the one to snuggle him and teach him, and be there to witness every new milestone, but I can’t dwell on it. He seems to enjoy day care. I visit him every day at lunch — he has not once been in tears when we’ve gone to pick him up, or when I’ve seen him on my lunch hour. He has become so vocal, and even gave us his first laugh over this past weekend. Day care has not changed our baby one little bit — except for the fact that he now sleeps like a champ!
Yes, I still cry during the day when I think of him crying and me not being there to comfort him, and I probably will for awhile. It’ll take a bit to get used to, but I stand by our decision. But I don’t think I’m a bad mom for putting him daycare, and I hope every other mom out there who has to do it knows that she is not a bad mom either.
This post was written beautifully, and I thank Nadine for sending it to me. I thank Nadine anyway, because she’s had to deal with my ass for the past week and a half. Everyone needs a Nadine in their life — that, I am quite sure of.