Not a (day)care in the world

Today was a big day sweetface. Today we got you all signed up for daycare. You won’t be here for another 2 ½ months, and then you won’t be there for 3 months after that, but I am already dreading the day we drop you off. Neuroticism, thy name is Mother.

We took a tour of the place yesterday, and Papa and I were smitten from the words “baby gym.” The place is full of bright colors, with big open rooms and plenty of room for you to play when you’re older. The director told us about how infants as young as 1 month are included in the daily activities and I got all misty-eyed as I thought about my wee baby playing “reach for the ball”. Obviously, you will be the most skilled infant that has ever reached for any ball, but that’s beside the point. The point is I could just see your chubby little hands reaching up for a ball, and later for your Poppa when he comes to pick you up at the end of the day.

I can’t say that I’m excited about the overall prospect of daycare, but if it’s a necessity, then we have found a really great place for you. It’s right by your future home, and everyday you’ll go to the park that Papa and I will take you to on the weekends. I hope that you’ll love it there, and if you don’t, remember: it’s just two days a week. This will be your (my) mantra.



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