I’m a big baby and I’m afraid of putting Summer in daycare.
I’ve written 2 dozen different versions of that sentence in 2 dozen different posts I haven’t published and every time I write it, I get a little less afraid.
Scott doesn’t have a job yet but the day is coming when someone calls him and says I want you to work for me and then he asks can I have my big piles of money all at once or do you divvy it out in 2 week increments? and then they ask to what piles of money are you referring? And he says you know, the piles of money my wife is waiting for you to throw at me so she can tell her bosses that she’s sorry but she is too tired to come in to the office ever again because rolling around in big piles of money is exhausting and she has to focus really hard at her new job which consists of taking care of our baby and rolling around in the big piles of money I bring home and they say yeah, about that…..
I know that daycare may end up being the greatest thing for Summer. I understand that if not now, it will eventually have to happen when she goes to school because I am NOT homeschooling her with my inability to read anything other than books made of girly paperback fiction with girly pink covers and my heavy reliance on spell check and a calculator. In daycare, she’ll get to play with other kids and make friends, and she might learn things from teachers that Scott and I might not think to teach her. And maybe, just maybe, being somewhere for 8 hours without a tv on in the background might be a good thing for her growing brain and current lack of ADD. I get all that. And it’s kind of blowing my mind that I just got through writing all that and actually sort of meant it this time instead of writing it to try to convince myself of it while sobbing ugly tears all over my keyboard.
But I’m still afraid.
And I know that my fear comes from the fact that I can’t wrap my brain around handing over my most precious thing in this entire world to a complete stranger and crossing my fingers that they’ll be good to her. And if she’s inconsolable or cranky or bites someone or screams or won’t take a nap or does something that a toddler probably will do 5 times in 1 hour, things that are only cute if it’s your own kid, I’m just supposed to convince myself that no one will spank her. Or yell at her. Or ignore her. Or spank her, then yell at her, then ignore her, and then kill her. Or anything horrible that my scaredy momma brain can think of. And I know I can meet the teachers and I can try to get myself as familiar with the place and the people as possible, but at the end of the day, if the place and the people are horrible and I have no way of knowing it and I just keep bringing her back day after day and my baby wonders why her own momma who is supposed to love her forever and ever keeps taking her to the horrible horrible place called daycare and she’s screaming inside and so so scared but can’t actually tell me so, well, I think you can tell that scares the shit out of me.
So anyway, that’s where I am. I am scared shitless but I’m trying to make myself ok with the thought of total strangers watching my baby before the time comes that I have to drop her off so I can go keep earning a paycheck…..
Holy crap, this momma need-to-protect-your-babies is a crazy powerful thing.