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So we’ve decided to move Zoey to private, in home daycare.  I still have good things to say about The Goddard School and their infant room but once she transitioned into the Toddler room, it became obvious that the ridged structure of a daycare center setting was not for her (or us).  First, she was required to give up having a bottle during the day.  I’m all for slowly transitioning her off the bottle and to the sippy cup but it was literally, when she was 11 months and 28 days she could have a bottle and now that she’s 12 months and 3 days, no bottle.  Babies don’t work like that. 

Second, she was reduced from napping whenever she wanted (usually a nap in the morning and one in the afternoon) to only 1 nap, from 12-2pm.  That wasn’t working for her.  She would get home at 5pm and be a freaking mess.  Frustrated and crying and tired…not good.  I think she should drop that second nap when she wants to, not because she’s moved up to another room.  Third, I feel like the teachers in the infant room, because they were new, checked out on my kid about 2 weeks before she moved to the new room.  She split crib time with a little boy who was taking over her spot, she split her cubby with him and split her bin in the fridge with him.   One day, I came in and couldn’t find a single item of clothing that she came to school in.  I’m serious.  Apparently she’d been zealously enjoying her lunch and had to be changed into a new outfit.  That’s fine.  That’s why I have an extra outfit packed.  But the pants, shirt, sweater and shoes she’d worn to school that day where not in her cubby or her bag.  And her blanket was gone.  Twenty minutes later, I’d tracked down her sweater (on top of bank of cubbies), her pants (in Lila’s cubby) and one shoe (in Alex’s cubby).  I finally said – nicely – I might add, “I can’t do this any longer because I need to get home and let my dogs out…”  The teacher took offense that I dared want all of her things in one place.  It took them 2 days to locate all of her things. 

Fourth, I didn’t like how the school handled the firing of Zoey’s infant room teacher.  One day Mrs. G was there, the next, it was someone else….I don’t know this person, why am I handing off Z to someone I don’t know with no explanation.  You don’t OWE me an explanation, I get that you are running a business but that business is the care of my child.  At least give me a head’s up about this change (and apparently, to be fair, there was an email sent at the end of the day but they had already moved my email to the Toddler room list so I didn’t get it).  Lastly, money.  The new daycare is less expensive, in a smaller setting with more individualized care by a woman who has a Masters in Early Childhood Development.

But can I tell you how freaking terrifying it is to switch to a new daycare?   All these questions like: am I doing the right thing?  Should she stay where she’s been for the last 5 months?  What about consistency?  Will she be safe?

I’m going to be a dang wreck again on Friday when she goes for her first day at the new place but I do feel like we’ve made the right decision.


That phrase could apply to about 10 times in my life…since I showered alone (without a little human chatting outside the curtain), since I had a hair cut (OMG, it’s long and scraggly), since I went on a date with Hubby (bad, bad parents), since I could friviliously blow money on something…anything…a new sweater…makeup…(finances are still not recovered)…well you get the point but mainly I wanted to say that it’s been a while since I posted…I’ve been working on Exhale Magazine.  If you don’t know it, read here.

I wouldn’t trade this for anything.  Not one thing.  I didn’t sleep well last night because Zoey didn’t sleep well.  I did get frustrated with her and have spent most of this morning beating myself up over it.  Would I trade my life with her and Hubby for all the sleep in the world?  Absolutely not.  

Zoey’s 1st birthday is in 16 days.  I can’t believe it.  Oh My Dog, do I love that little tiny girl…

On a more personal note, my milk supply is decreasing.  I noticed about a week ago that I wasn’t able to pump as much during the day.  I’ve been worried that Zoey has not been satisfied with feedings and it seems prehaps I was right.  When she woke up last night, she seemed really fussy but more like hungry fussy.  It was definitely a hunger cry.  Hubby gave her 3 ounces of formula and she was sound asleep.  I guess I need to pump more and supplement.  Could this be the end of the boob?  Sigh.  I love nursing her to sleep….

I’m a Virgo, we don’t like change.  I’m a little like a cat in that respect.  I will likely pee outside the litter box if given too much change at one time (you like that visual?).  Pregnancy was about the only time I embraced change and rolled around in it like a glorious catnip filled toy (look at me, on a roll with the metaphors and similes).  How I deal with change is organization and schedules.  Not to say that I’m not messy or cluttered but I work best when I have a plan and schedule.  I guess it was practice for life with baby and life after baby.

So lately, my life has been all about change.  I had Zoey and she continues to change and grow daily.  It’s amazing.  Pictures that I took of her just 2 weeks ago after so different then the ones I took Sunday.  She still looks like me but less like an infant and more like a little girl – a sweet little cuddly baby girl. …I started a new job which I’m enjoying but it’s a total change from what type of law I was doing.  Zoey goes to daycare.  Mornings are hectic.  It’s been 2 weeks of getting used to a new schedule and I thought I had it down.  I congratulated myself about getting out of the house on time every morning, not being late, even being able to stop and get donuts one morning for my co-workers.  Yeah me!

And then we have this morning…

Hubby changes the baby’s diaper and feeds her some prunes while I’m in the shower.  This morning he says, with a smirk, “she ate an ass-load of prunes…har, har, har…” (we give the baby prunes to keep her regular).  “Really?” I say, “she ate a lot of prunes?”  Oh boy, I think.  A 7 month olds’ digestive tract is not that long…can I hand her off to daycare before she has a code brown bummie blowout (don’t judge, you know you’d do the same thing…)?  The answer was no, no I could not.

The last 20 minutes at the house in the morning are as follows:  nurse Zoey, check dog bowls for food and water, change Zoey’s diaper, load the 47 bags of stuff I need into the car (why doesn’t motherhood come with a sherpa?), put on my work clothes and load baby into the car.  No room for anything else.  Nothing.  Not a thing.  You follow what’s about to happen here?

Nurse?  check.  Dogs? check.  Diaper? check.  Loaded car?  check.  I’m standing in the closet with my skirt and tank top on, fishing out my sweater and I hear, “Farrrrrrrrrrrttttttttttt………..”  Oh no.  Oh nooooo….I look out and she’s sitting in her bouncy seat with a smile of such relief on her face that I almost didn’t notice the trickle of brown poop running from her adorable little jeans shorts.  Oh crap.  Literally, oh crap.

At this point, I’m a deer in the headlights.  We are deviating from the schedule here and I’m not equipt for that!!!  Do I strip off my work clothes first and change her or risk getting poop on my new pencil skirt and cardigan?  I’m closer to the tub than the nursery, do I just strip her down in the bathroom, hose her off and start over with a whole new costume change?  Do I just grab her and run to the nursery and risk a trail of poop that inevitably the dogs will walk in?

I opted for “B” and stripped her down in the bathroom, hosed her off, yelled for the dogs to “stop licking that damn diaper!!” and changed her into a very cute little romper with a giraffe on the front.

And I will have you know, I was only 5 minutes late to work…