Man, you just never know! Kiddo had a fantastic day at school today. He ate, drank, slept, and bit ZERO kids.
After the brutal night and sad morning, I did not expect such a good report when I picked him up this afternoon.
Good job, Lewis!
Man, you just never know! Kiddo had a fantastic day at school today. He ate, drank, slept, and bit ZERO kids.
After the brutal night and sad morning, I did not expect such a good report when I picked him up this afternoon.
Good job, Lewis!
I miss Lewis. After such a rough night (and morning! Man oh man, the sad baby!), I should probably be grateful for the break. But I’m not. My poor, sad baby… he should be with his mommy.
I broke my vow and gave him ibuprofen this morning. Tylenol is just not strong enough to battle the pain he’s feeling. He’ll be insane and hyper for his daycare teachers, which I’m feeling a little guilty about, but at least he won’t be screaming and sad.
The pull I’m feeling is so strong. I just want to be with him and comfort him. It is – as always – a physical feeling. Missing my baby is something I feel from head to toe, but it is strongest in my chest. Sometimes a deep breath will loosen it, but it is a pretty constant, persistent tightening.
I know that he likes being at daycare, and it is really cool to see him socializing and making friends now that he’s old enough… but I would still pull him out in an instant if I had a choice. Most days I can see that the benefits of daycare are abundant for a kid of his age, so I don’t feel so desperate to get him out of there. But days like today when he isn’t feeling his best, I would do anything to be home with him.
Now that we’re at this point, I think 1 year is the earliest kids should start in daycare. Wait… no… 1 year is the age my kids should start in daycare. Other families can do whatever they want, but for me, 1 year makes sense. When they’re itty-bitty, they are just lumps who need (and deserve!) constant attention and love. A 4-1 baby-to-teacher ratio doesn’t make sense to me developmentally. The little babies just get left to their own devices for the most part, when they should be showered with love. But there just aren’t enough grown-ups in a daycare facility to give them that kind of attention. How sad is it to think of your tiny baby just laying in a swing – largely ignored – all day long? My heart aches retroactively!
When kids are walking, mobile, and social, they seem to thrive on independent play and interaction with other kids. Something being at home with mama doesn’t offer them in the same way as being at “school”. At that point, constant attention doesn’t feel necessary, or even beneficial. They need to start finding their own way. Suddenly, daycare makes sense and has a purpose. And dropping kiddo off doesn’t hurt as bad, because even if you miss them, they’re getting something positive out of being away from you.
If I could do it all over, I would try to find a way to keep my baby home with me for about a year. Then maybe I’d do half-day or part-time daycare for the social aspect. But probably not full time, because I selfishly would love to be home with my kids all the time.
I suppose someday I’ll get a chance to “do it over” with a second child. But it seems unlikely (impossible?) that I’d get to “do it over” the right way/the way I want to, finances being what they are. The thought of living without my salary for a year is… well… it makes me sick to my stomach. We’d drown.
As my Granny wisely says, I shouldn’t “pre-worry”. There is no point. We’re not pregnant with our second, we don’t know when we will start trying, so worrying about it just causes unnecessary stress over a hypothetical situation. Why waste your emotions on a problem you don’t yet have?
So I’ll focus on the present – I hope Lewis has found relief through the ibuprofen and is enjoying playing with his friends at school. Imagining him running around, laughing and learning eases the tightening in my chest more than a deep breath ever could!
This has been the roughest night of this round of teething so far.
I hate teething. And I miss sleep.
Maybe this is an extra bad night because that damn tooth is about to come through. The final push, perhaps.
Poor baby. And poor mom’s energy levels.