Some people have the luxury of staying at home with their children. By luxury, I'm referring to the opportunity and not the lap in which a SAHM or SAHD sits.
I, although I did try my damnedest, am not that fortunate.
I drive the 15 miles into town twice a day and back to leave my daughter at day care. Yes, I work at home - but that doesn't give me an extra set of hands, another brain, and four times the energy to work 50+ hours a week AND chase a toddler.
Go ahead - judge me for my decision to not work through the night and be exhausted while I half-assed care for my kid. I tried it. Nobody wins. I'm secure in my choice. It didn't work for our family. If you can do it, and not land yourself in the looney bin - fantastic for you and your family!
One thing that I love more than anything is how much my daughter LOVES the people who care for her. She giggles with delight as we approach the building. I have to fight to get her coat off of her because she's already diving in the half-door toward welcoming arms.
I know she is safe. I know she is learning. I know she is developing socially. And I know she is loved.
We were lucky to have only gone through one iffy caretaker before we found our match.
Yes, she has electric green snot more often than I'd prefer. I keep telling myself that her system won't be shocked later on when she's introduced to germ buckets later. I also know that part of that is utter bullshit. She'll still get sick. And she'll still bring it home to my hermit, housed-dwelling ass.
Sometimes, when I leave her - she cries. Sometimes, she ignores me as her attention is on the morning bowl of Cheerios or children running around.
This morning, she turned from her bowl. Smiled. And waved good-bye.
It broke my heart.
I'm still crying.
She's safe - and I sure as shit wouldn't get my work done with her here - but dammit if I didn't want to just scoop her blond hair, blue eyed little butt up and bring her back to cuddle.