Monday

My son, my second born, my baby! will be 12 weeks old next week. On Monday, he will start going to daycare, the same one Z goes to, three days a week. I know I've written about this daycare before so I was just rereading this post. And I'm so glad that I did. This post was my therapy. This post reminded me that I have nothing to feel guilty about.

I am sending my 12-week-old son to daycare three days a week when I don't even have a job. Something about that just doesn't seem right to me. But, I've been unemployed since the middle of November and I haven't had a second to myself to do all the things I need to do in order to find a new job. And I just need to focus. I have to create a new portfolio website and then I need to contact everyone in the ad biz that I know, and even some I don't, in an effort to find some freelance work for myself. Chris works from home, so once I do get a job, hopefully he can watch the Lil' Man the other two days. And if we are both contracted out at the same time? Well, I guess we'll skip giddily over that bridge when we come to it.

I spent the morning sitting on the floor in the infant room with the Lil' Man getting him acquainted with his new surroundings. I went there planning to scrutinize the teachers and I honestly thought it would make me nervous about sending him there so young (as you'll see from my previous post, Z didn't start til she was older, but alas, our days and our desire for an in-home nanny are over). However, our morning was very pleasant. When we walked in, it was actually quiet. Most of the babies in there right now are good babies. They jump in their exersaucers or crawl around exploring or play with/knaw on books. They reach toward little dangling things. They cruise against the big mirror on the wall, wondering "is that adorable baby me?" The teachers hold them and feed them and make kooky faces at them. It was fun for me to watch. I looked down at the Lil' Man's face and saw that his eyes were wide as he took in this scene. If this is stimulating for me, I imagine how theatrical it will be for him. Oh, the things he'll learn. Oh, how fast his little brain will grow.

I am crying just thinking about how much I'll miss him. I am nerve-wracked wondering if he will miss my sardine-like swaddles and the lightning bolt pace in which I run to him when he cries. I know two things for sure he will miss about me: my right boob and my left. But, I know in my heart he'll be fine. He'll survive and he'll grow up. They will walk Z up front to give him kisses periodically. He will look adoringly up at her and smile that crooked, Davis family grin. It will be the first of many years of them looking out for each other.

I love this daycare.

I trust this daycare.

My son will be fine.

My little boy will be just fine.