No, we don't . . .

have after school care, I have said at least 200 times since school began.  And then I think to myself, "Not that it is any of your damn business."  Inevitably, I get a look of astonishment, followed by, "Oh, okay, I guess we'll have to make meetings work around that schedule."  And I respond, "Yes, I guess we will, or else I'll just have to miss the meeting."

So no, we don't have after school care for Wild Man and Bear.  Actually, we only have it two days a week.  Those two days a former student of mine brings them home from school and stays with them until we get home.  Mondays I work from home, so Archer gets to stay a bit later at his office.  Fridays Archer works from home, so I get to stay a bit later at my office.  We did this for several reasons.  First, we're paying for full-time childcare for George.  Adding in the cost of after school care for Wild Man and Bear was more than our budget could take, or more accurately, it was more than we were willing for our budget to take.  Second, we're in the habit of picking our children up by 4:15 or 4:30, which means we'd be paying roughly $280 per child per month (for a total of $560 per month) for about forty-five minutes of care per day.  That didn't make sense.  This is a schedule/arrangement that works for us.  And if one more person asks me about it, I am likely to lose my cool.

As an aside, my colleagues who don't have children (or who have grown children) seem to get this decision.  It's the colleagues who have children the same age as Wild Man and Bear who are the most judgmental.  I am struggling to understand that.

A rough morning

Today Wild Man and Bear started the first in a series of day camps.  Wild Man was excited.  He anticipated seeing old friends (he went to the same program last year), and he was really excited to make new friends.  He happily put his lunch box in his back pack, let me put sunscreen on him, and climbed into the car.  Bear, well, Bear was more hesitant.  You see, to prepare him for JK, Archer and I decided to take him out of daycare (the same daycare he's been attending since he was 6 months old) and send him to day camp with Wild Man.  We've been talking about this with him for months, and some days he is really excited. Other days, not so much. 

Yesterday, Bear helped me label all his things, and he told me what he wanted in his lunch box.  We made a special trip to the store so he could pick out containers that he can open easily.  We discussed how he needed to make all his food last for both lunch and afternoon snack.  Wild Man assured Bear that he would help him.  We talked about how all the kids get to go swimming in the afternoon, and I showed him where I put his towel and suit.  He said he didn't want to go swimming, and Archer assured him that was okay.  I said, we'll tell your camp teacher.  You can sit out and watch the other kids till you're more comfortable.  He seemed okay with that.  In fact, he seemed okay until we got to camp.  Wild Man, who is our social guy, quickly found three kids he knew, and he found a spot where he could sit with Bear.  He encouraged Bear to sit beside him, and he even offered to hold his hand.  Bear, however, was having none of it.  I literally had to peel him off of me.  I took him to a quiet spot and reminded him that his teachers have my phone number and his dad's.  I also reminded him that we're only 5 minutes away (the day camps are held on CU's campus) and that his dad was going to have lunch with them today.  He told me that he didn't want to go and refused to let go of me.  Finally, one of the teachers, a very nice young man, came over and introduced himself to Bear.  He told Bear how much fun they were going to have, and then he took Bear from me, who started crying at that point.  I hugged him one more time, and then Archer and I left.  As we drove away, we saw Bear sitting in his teacher's lap trying not to cry, while Wild Man rubbed his back. 

I'm struggling to get any work done this morning as I keep thinking about Bear.  He does not handle new situations well, which is precisely why we wanted him to go to camp to prepare for JK. I hope that the day improves for him, and that he grows to like camp.  I'm worrying about next Monday because the boys are in different programs starting next week.  Really, I just want to go find my kid and hug him.  I really hate it when I know I've made the right decision for my child, but that decision makes my child upset.

George

As I've written, George is now in childcare three days a week.  This has been a hard transition for both he and I.  So hard, in fact, that Archer was surprised.  After all, I have transitioned two other children into childcare, both of whom flourished with their respective caregivers.  He was not prepared for me to cry every day we dropped George off during his first month in care.  As I told him, though, I had to put Wild Man into childcare when he was 3 1/2 months old.  I had to go back to teaching and finish my dissertation.  I was able to work out a part-time schedule for him, but he had to go into childcare.  With Bear, I was back in the classroom when he was 10 weeks old.  Archer was able to take 6 months of family leave, but by the time we put Bear in childcare, I was accustomed to leaving him for most of the day.  George, however, had never spent more than 4 hours away from me, and only then a handful of times.  Those times he was in Archer's care.  I have been with him a significant portion of every day since he was born.  Putting him in someone else's care, even for 6 hours a day, 3 days a week, during the summer, just seemed, well, wrong.  I'm managing, but after almost 6 weeks, I'm still a bit upset every morning.  I'd rather be with him. 

It hasn't helped that George finds childcare a bit daunting.  He loves his brothers.  He loves their noise and their mayhem.  He actually crawls around the house to find them on the days he's home with us.  But he doesn't really like babies, it seems.  He finds them noisy and irritating.  He gets easily overwhelmed in childcare, and he refuses to take a bottle (he will, however, drink water from a sippy cup throughout the day).  He is hesitant to nap in his crib there, and he is struggling to bond to the caregivers.  He does love the room and the time outside on the playground.  He especially loves lunch, and he really loves it when he is the only baby awake in his room.  He is having a rough time adjusting to everything else.  I know he'll be settled in by September, when he starts going full-time, but his rough transition has made my transition a bit rougher. 

Our little family is going through lots of changes right now (Wild Man is finishing up first grade; Bear is leaving the childcare center to start some day camps in preparation for JK; George is starting childcare; and I'm back in the office), and all of them have me feeling more than a bit emotional. 

George

George starts daycare today.  For now, he will only be going two days a week.  While my practical side tells me that this is necessary in order for me to get some crucial work done, my not-so-practical side is sad.  I've never spent more than 4 hours away from him, and on those rare occasions, he has been in Archer's care.  I somehow managed to get him a spot in the room Bear was in, so he is with a teacher we know well.  In fact, she has already baby-sat him a few times.  Archer was hopeful I wouldn't be too upset this morning because, as he said, "We've done this twice already."  I managed to keep it together until we left the center, but then, I had a good cry. 

Conflicted. . .

that is the word that best describes how I am feeling today.  In fact, it best describes how I've felt for a week or so now.  I know why, more or less.  My mat leave officially ends next week.  I say officially because I timed my leave with the start and end of classes; thus, I don't go back into the classroom until September as the Winter semester at CU ends April 11th.  My responsibilities to my departments will be relatively light: end of the year meetings, faculty development retreats, and evaluating transcripts.  I have to finish adapting one of my courses to teach as an on-line course, but I have much of that done already.  I have two essays I need to finish revising and submit, and my goal is to have both under review by August 15th.  But given all this, I don't expect much will change, at least not till exams are over.  So I have another six weeks or so in which I will primarily be a stay-at-home mom.  George is slated to go into daycare part-time sometime at the end of April or beginning of May, depending on when a spot is available. 

I know this is a great situation.  I know I've been really lucky this year.  I like my job, and I know I'll be happy once I go back to work.  But I'm still conflicted.  I didn't expect to like staying home as much as I do.  I haven't longed for "adult" conversations, the way so many people told me I would.  I've enjoyed making muffins with Bear and just hanging out with George.  I've liked meeting Wild Man at the bus stop almost every day and listening to him describe his day.  I've found a groove of sorts, and now I have to find a new groove, one that will be infinitely more complicated and focused on schedules--at least by September.

And on the other hand, it will be good to have more than 45 minutes at a time to work, to know my work time is my work time, and that my time with my  kids doesn't have to be so split.  I think I'd feel less conflicted if the last few weeks I hadn't been so focused on getting an essay done.  I've been writing in snatches, but most every free minute is devoted to trying to get this thing finished.  As I wrote before, it is slow going, which is frustrating.  I know I am ready to have time to focus on work.  But dropping George off at daycare the first day will be infinitely harder than it was to take Wild Man or Bear, and neither of those days were what I'd describe as easy.   

Parenting Dilemma

For the past few months we've been dealing with Bear's anger.  He is almost three, and the kid has a temper.  As he has gotten more verbal he has gotten much better at controlling his temper and expressing himself.  He does have a tendency, however, to  hit Wild Man or me.  As an aside, Bear rarely hits Archer, and the only explanation I have for this is that at 6'2", Archer is much bigger than Bear.  Bear hits under fairly normal circumstance--when he and Wild Man are squabbling over a toy, when I'm disciplining him, or when he is unable to express himself.  As I've said, he has improved a lot in the past 4 months or so, primarily because we've been firm.  At times, I've been firmer than I'd like to be, but honestly, Bear responds to firmness in a way that Wild Man did not.  We were at a point when I thought we had almost moved past this stage. 

Recently though Bear has regressed a bit.  A few times a week he will walk up to me or to Wild Man and just hit us for no real reason.  Archer and I were both at a loss for this behavior.  We continued our normal discipline tactics, but it didn't really seem to work.  This morning I witnessed something that explains the behavior.

At daycare this morning, Bear was unusually fussy.  He has never handled drop offs particularly well, although he is generally fine less than two minutes after we leave his classroom.  This morning he was out of sorts because Archer's schedule necessitated that we took him to his classroom by 8:30, which means that we were out of the house a bit earlier than usual and that I was the only parent dropping off.  Any change can throw Bear off, whereas Wild Man adapts much easier.  Because he was upset, I spent more time with Bear.  As I was finally able to get him settled into an activity with one of his teachers another child came up to him and smacked him in the face.  It wasn't a hard smack, but it shocked Bear.  He went from whining to full on sobbing.  The teacher nearest Bear picked him up to comfort him, and the other teacher ran across the room to redirect the hitter.  Unfortunately, she wasn't fast enough, and he hit Bear again.  The teachers both apologized to me, and I didn't say much.  As the situation was under control, I left.  I knew my staying would only prolong how long it took Bear to calm down, and frankly, I wasn't sure I could be in the room with the hitter.

So here is the dilemma.  The hitter has some sort of developmental delay.  I'm inclined to think he is autistic, but I have no confirmation of this.  I know an aid comes in to work with him every day; I know he gets speech therapy; and I know there are pictures and charts posted around the room reminding him of the rules and the schedule.  I also know he takes his clothes off regularly and that, at 3, he doesn't yet speak, nor is he potty trained.  I've seen some behaviors that suggest autism, but I haven't asked.  It also isn't the center's practice to disclose which children have disabilities or what those disabilities are.  I do think, however, that Bear may be learning to hit in certain circumstances from this child.  Considering how hard we've worked to get Bear to stop hitting, I really don't want to start all over. But I'm not sure what to say or even how to broach this with Bear's teachers, both of whom were Wild Man's teachers and both of whom I really like.  I realize there is only so much they can do, given the rules of the center--time out isn't an option, and it likely wouldn't work for this child.  But I think there must be a way to let the other children know not to mimic the hitter's behavior.  Thoughts?

Bear

C and I dropped both Wild Man and Bear off at school today. Wild Man will be there for his usual day of preschool, and Bear is only going to be there a few hours.

And it was hard, although not as hard as I expected. It helps that one of his caregivers is Wild Man's best buddy's mom. We've spent lots of time with her, and Bear likes her a lot. As soon as he saw her, he smiled and starting giggling. As we watched another mother dropping off her 11-month-old for the first time, I thought of one more thing to be positive about: Bear hasn't experienced any separation anxiety. He is not "making strange," as they say in Canada. He smiled at us when we left, and I know he'll be fine for the 2 hours that he will be there today. We're planning to take him to school for a few hours every day until the holiday starts. It sucks. I don't know how else to put it. But I do love that his school is on campus. I can be there in 5 minutes if I need to be (or want to be).

Daycare Update

Yesterday C and I learned that there is no chance of starting Bear later in December. If we want a spot in January, we have to start paying on Nov. 30. After we found this out, we were both quiet and tense. On the drive home, C said, "Suddenly, I feel sick to my stomach, and M, this is one time in our relationship where I get to be more upset than you do. I've been the one home with Bear, and I actually think I'm going to feel a little lost the first day we send him for the whole day." I looked at C and tried really hard not to burst into tears, especially since both Bear and Wild Man were in the backseat.

We talked about our plan after both boys were asleep. We've decided that we will start transitioning Bear this week and next week. It will be a slow process because we want it to be. Neither of us is really concerned about the cost, especially as my teaching 3 classes this term has enabled us to put a big chunk of money in savings. We want this to be easy on Bear and, frankly, to be easy on us. So by the second week of December, we plan to start taking him to his classroom for a few hours a day. Even though I don't want to do this, I know this is the best decision. He has to be used to his surroundings and his caregivers before the holiday. The school closes from Christmas Eve till the Winter Term begins, which means Bear will go straight to daycare after not seeing the school or his caregivers for about 10 days. The start of the term will be stressful enough on everyone (it always is), so we want that transition to be as smooth as possible. We will likely not leave Bear for a full 7-hour day until January, and as he is only going 3 days a week, I will still get plenty of time with him.

Yes, I'm making a conscious effort to focus on the positive.

Bear and Daycare

In January, C's leave ends, and given our teaching schedules, Bear will have to go to daycare part-time. I'm ok with this. Notice I didn't say I'm ecstatic or anything. I'm just ok. He will go three days a week, and two of those days are essential as C's and my teaching schedules overlap on those days. He will be 6 months old, and he will be going to the same school that Wild Man goes to. He will literally be a 10 minute walk from me if I decide I want to go nurse in the middle of the day. Plus, his teacher is going to be Miss M., who is Wild Man's best friend's mom. We know Miss M., and Bear likes her a lot. I'm quite pleased that he has been placed in her room as I think it will make the transition easier for him. This has been the plan for sometime, and as I said, I'm ok with this plan.

Last week we got a call from the school telling us that a spot had opened up for Nov. 30th. The person who does the scheduling for the infant rooms knows our situation and knows we don't want Bear to start until January, but as she explained it, she didn't know if any other spots would be opening up between now and January. If we wanted to ensure Bear had a spot in January, we had to take the November 30th spot. I agreed, but I made it clear that I preferred to wait. I even said if another spot opened that I wanted to take the later spot. She agreed, but I haven't heard anything.

November 30th is about 10 days away, and last night, C asked me what our plan was. He wants to go ahead and start Bear before the holiday break, especially if we'll already be paying for the spot. I, however, don't. After Dec. 7th, I will be done for the semester, aside from grading. I was really looking forward to just hanging out with Bear before the holidays and MLA. The thought of taking him to daycare, whether it is November 30th or later, makes me sick to my stomach. As I told C, I'm feeling all the things I felt when we started Wild Man in daycare. I know Bear has to go in January, but I don't want him to go any sooner than that. C seems to understand, but I can tell he isn't pleased. I know he'd rather start Bear so that we could both get a lot of work done in December and not be so stressed out at the start of the semester. He also said he thinks it is a good idea to get Bear exposed to the school to start building up his immune system. He makes a good argument, but then he does what he always does with these kinds of decisions. He said, "But if you want to have him home with you, that's what we'll do." I don't know what to do.

Bye-bye, Mommy Part 2

Wild Man's first day of school was a success. He did cry at one point and ask for me, but this happened when his class was leaving the playground and going inside. During our visits the past two weeks, this has been the most confusing moment for him, and either C or I have been there to help him understand what was happening. His teachers, whom I like very, very much, said he calmed down once they explained that he was going to be at school the rest of the day and that we'd be back to get him after afternoon playtime. He ate his lunch well, and he went right to sleep at naptime, which was the part of the day I'd been most worried about.

As good as his day was, he didn't let me talk to his teachers at much length. As soon as he heard my voice, he ran over to me, grabbed my hand, and said "Bye-bye, Mommy." This time he meant that he was ready to leave. In fact, he continued saying this until we left. When I lifted him up to put him in his car seat, I received a big kiss and was told "Love you, Mommy." And C wonders why I was upset yesterday morning.

Bye-bye, Mommy

That is what Wild Man said to me this morning after C and I dropped him off for his first day at his new school. We've been visiting for 2 weeks, so he was well prepared for this. He had a moment when he realized we were leaving, but as soon as his teachers told him to line up to go outside, he ran over to the door. Then he turned to me and waved as he said, "Bye-bye, Mommy." Then he walked through the school and put his "bum on the door" just as he was instructed.

Drop off for me was not so easy. It was not as difficult as the very first time I took him to school, but still, it was a little upsetting. As we walked to the car, I wiped away a few tears, and C asked me why I was upset. I love my husband so much, but I swear he just doesn't get it. To him, this means more freedom to work; it means that Wild Man will be in a safe environment where he will be having fun; and it means that he doesn't have to try to juggle caring for an active toddler while writing or prepping or the like. While it also means all of those things for me, it also means that I will be away from my boy. I am excited to get back to work--I've not been sleeping well the last week because I wake up in the middle of the night thinking about my dissertation--but I actually liked being home with Wild Man. So I told C that it will just take a little while for me to get used to the new schedule. Today, I'll be thinking of my little guy a lot.

The Moving Saga continues

We leave on Sunday to visit CU Land; we will be there until Friday. The list of things we have to do while we're there keeps getting longer and longer. In an attempt to stop thinking of all of this so I can actually get some work done today I've decided to compile of list of moving issues that are currently stressing me out. I'm hoping that getting all of this down will ease some of my stress so I can get a few pages written today.

• On Sunday evening, as we pass through customs in CU Land we have to apply for C's restricted work permit (he is only legally allowed to work at CU), my unlimited work permit (mine will be attached to his, and I am allowed to work any place that will hire me), and Wild Man's visa (I'm not clear on what sort of visa this is, but apparently he has to have one to be a part of the Canadian health care system). We land around 6:30, which is dinner time for Wild Man. We have no idea how long this will take, and apparently the entire process is contingent upon our customs agent. If we get a nice customs agent, it will go smoothly; if we get a mean one, we could be there for hours.
• C spoke with the movers yesterday, and he learned that we may not be able to take our car into Canada. Apparently, Canadian Customs can refuse to allow a car that was purchased in another country and has a loan through said country into their country. I totally get the purpose of this; Canada is trying to prevent its citizens from crossing into the U.S. to buy a car without paying Canadian taxes, which are substantially higher. But come on! We're already decided to get rid of one car. There is no way we can afford to buy a car once we get to Canada, so this also has me freaked out. C has to fill out a million customs forms on our car, but apparently we could be told that we can take our car into Canada only to be told no at the border. I'm learning that border agents and customs agents have a lot of power.
• We've decided to buy a town house. We've done lots and lots of research on this and feel fairly confident this is a good idea and will be a good investment. We've rule out a house because to get into the school district we want we can't afford a house, but we can afford a nice town house. I'm getting stressed out about trying to find a house we like, put a bid, and do the paperwork in 4 days.
• We also have to look at schools for Wild Man. This was a difficult process when we did it in Southwest College Town, and he wasn't even born then. We visited day cares and selected the one we liked the best when I was 8 months pregnant. I've spent so much time on-line researching schools in the past two weeks that I'm beginning to think I could write a dissertation on daycares in CU Land. This is a big source of stress because he is so happy where he is. I really hate that we have to move him.
• C was finally given access to CU's library database, and I spent about an hour on-line yesterday trying to determine how extensive their literature section is. Let me say that C will be ILLing a lot of books for me. I'm also asking my parents to give me cash for my birthday so that I can start buying the books I use regularly. Apparently CU isn't so big on nineteenth-century American literature. Go figure.

Well that helped more than I would have thought. I am now going to try to figure out what I have to say about Phelps, nature, and transcendentalism.

S and the bottle

S continues to improve with the bottle. As Supadiscomama predicted, he began to take the bottle when he started daycare. Being my kid, however, it wasn't easy. For the first week, I would prepare 2 bottles every morning, and when I picked him up, I would take home 2 bottles, minus 1 ounce of breastmilk. As soon as I got him home, he would nurse for over an hour to make up for what he had missed in the 4 hours we were apart. My stubborn boy would take drink just enough milk to take the edge off of his hunger, and then he would wait for me. The one of his teachers decided to experiment with nipples. A breastfeeding mother herself, she tried a type of latex nipple that her own son preferred. As soon as she put the bottle in S's mouth, he downed the entire 2 ounce bottle and then ate the other. The next day, I prepared bigger bottles, and today, he drank a 5 ounce bottle. He still nursed for an hour when we got home, but I now choose to believe it is because he missed me and our snuggly time together rather than because he was famished. C was home with us today, so he got to experience the marathon nursing session first hand. He asked me if I minded that S wanted to snuggle and eat that long, and I assured him I didn't. I've come to think of that hour (and sometimes longer!) as our special time together. I quickly realized that C was a little jealous of my time with S, so as soon as he finished nursing and his short nap, I passed him over to his dad for some serious playtime. I spent the next hour watching them play together.

I have to say that although I still hate that I have to take my son to daycare, I no longer feel guilty about spending so much time with him. After my four hours of work, I'm more than ready to spend the rest of the day with my little guy.

A new baby and daycare

Yesterday I acted as a doula for my good friend and happily helped her and her husband welcome their beautiful baby girl into the world. I have to say birth is an entirely different experience when you're not the one giving birth. It was so thrilling to see Baby J crown and to encourage her mother to fulfill her goal of unmedicated childbirth. I was deeply honored to be there and very, very happy to return the favor, as Baby J's mama acted as my doula at S's birth three months ago. As I was with my birth experience, I was deeply awed by the strength of the female body. Welcome to the world Baby J!

After such a great day, I woke up this morning not feeling so great. Today is the first day I take S to daycare. I will be with him the entire time as we're spending this week transitioning. Tomorrow C will take him, and on Friday, we will take him together. We've talked about this endlessly, and while I know it is the right decision, I feel horrible. I'm going to be a complete wreck next Monday, the first day I will leave him by himself. As I reread that sentence, I know how preposterous it sounds. I am not leaving him by himself. I'm leaving him with capable caregivers whom I trust and who were highly recommended by two good friends. I know I'm setting myself up to feel like a bad mother, whatever that means, but I really feel like I'm leaving him all alone.

Writing and guilt

I am longing to write, and I want to write more than just a blog entry, more than just a lengthy email to a friend, more than just an announcement to my students, more than just a travel request to my department. I want to begin drafting a chapter of my dissertation. I know what I want to write and how I want to write it, but I need several uninterrupted hours to sit down and do it. I spent an hour and a half formulating an entire section in my head last night at 3 am while S nursed. Once he fell back asleep (after 25 minutes or so) I even contemplated getting up and working, something I never, never thought about before he was born. But, as usual, my mind wandered to something else, and although it took me over an hour to fall back to sleep, I didn't think about writing again. I've resigned myself to the reality that I won't likely get any real writing done until he starts daycare in a few weeks, and I'm feeling a tremendous sense of guilt over that. I am so conflicted about daycare. I have learned in the past three months that I am not stay at home mom material. In the past three months that I've been a SAHM, I have developed the highest esteem for SAHMs; I want to want to be one, but I can't even manage to take care of S all day long and throw dinner in the crock pot most days. I don't have it in me to be a SAHM because I don't think I'd be a good one. I'm a perfectionist, and in the past three months I haven't found time to dust my house while taking care of my infant let alone do all the other stuff my mom did as a SAHM. There hasn't been any homemade bread for C or fancy dinners. And I feel like I should be doing all things domestic now that I'm home most of the time, but I end up sitting at my desk, nursing S, staring longingly at a huge pile of books while the dust continues to accumulate on my bookshelves. If I were working more, I feel like I'd have an excuse for not doing all those things, not that C expects or wants them. I have this image of a SAHM in my head, and I haven't lived up to it.

So I look forward to writing when he starts daycare, and then I feel guilty for that. I don't want S to go to daycare, not even part-time. I never expected to feel so conflicted about daycare; it was always understood that our children would go to daycare for some period. I've found one I like, and I've talk to the teachers at length. I know he'll be happy there, and he'll even benefit from the interaction with other kids. But I feel like a horrible mother for sending him. I feel like I should be able to be take care of S, write a brilliant dissertation, and make homemade bread for C (who has never once expressed an interest in or a desire for homemade bread). As with every part of my life, I know my expectations of myself are too high. I want to be able to do it all and to do it all really well. So right now the closest I can come to writing is this blog. When S starts daycare, I know I'll spend the first few days crying, and then maybe I can get past my guilt and start writing again.