Before kids, when my back seat was soft, supple, pristine leather, I would see cheerio-and-crayon-coated car seats and shudder. Surely I knew the solution: you just don't give them cheerios or crayons in the car! Sometimes the most brilliant ideas are also the simplest.
Now, with my back seat looking like a back-splash at a dairy farm, and after having sent a car key to General Mills for access during those code-yellow Cheerio shortage emergencies, I get that it's not so simple. With Owen's weight barely keeping pace with his height I will shovel food into this kid whatever it takes. And, apparently it means that Keith will occasionally find some really disgusting things under the carseat when he's cleaning the car.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Monday, July 28, 2008
Charlieisms
Still in Chicago for the International Conference on Alzheimer's Disease and had the BEST time with Erin and the kiddos & Mommers. The boys are adorable and I will post pics on the Picasa site when I get home (Erin's already posted hers!). It made all of us realize that we need to get the kids together so much more; they're so fun together.
I haven't seen Charlie and Reilly since October (for shame, I know), although we did get to see Erin in February. When I saw Charlie last, he was talking of course, but it was much different than now. Now he's completely fluent and it's just fascinating to hear how he phrases things. Like, when he is eating some crackers and Erin would prefer he eats something else and says "Charlie, I want you to eat some of your sandwich, not just crackers" he says "I'm just eating some crackers" in a tone that sounds like he's contradicting her understanding of what is going on. Or, he'll have a cup of water and be drinking it on the couch and Erin will say "Charlie, can you please sit on the floor and drink the cup of water so you don't spill on Nonni's bed?" and Charlie would say "I'm just drinking a little water on Nonni's bed." I can't do the cuteness justice, it's BEYOND adorable.
Erin and I got some much-needed smister time last night, but Mommy duties called us back a little early. Regardless, I can't say how nice it was to sit outside with Erin at a bar nearby, sipping a cocktail, enjoying the nice Chicago afternoon. I'm so glad we have more trips planned coming up - I miss my smister.
I haven't seen Charlie and Reilly since October (for shame, I know), although we did get to see Erin in February. When I saw Charlie last, he was talking of course, but it was much different than now. Now he's completely fluent and it's just fascinating to hear how he phrases things. Like, when he is eating some crackers and Erin would prefer he eats something else and says "Charlie, I want you to eat some of your sandwich, not just crackers" he says "I'm just eating some crackers" in a tone that sounds like he's contradicting her understanding of what is going on. Or, he'll have a cup of water and be drinking it on the couch and Erin will say "Charlie, can you please sit on the floor and drink the cup of water so you don't spill on Nonni's bed?" and Charlie would say "I'm just drinking a little water on Nonni's bed." I can't do the cuteness justice, it's BEYOND adorable.
Erin and I got some much-needed smister time last night, but Mommy duties called us back a little early. Regardless, I can't say how nice it was to sit outside with Erin at a bar nearby, sipping a cocktail, enjoying the nice Chicago afternoon. I'm so glad we have more trips planned coming up - I miss my smister.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Haircut
I'm sure many mothers have made the same mistake. The oh-that-hair-cutting-thing-doesn't-look-so-hard thing. Owen's clown curls were getting a little out of control, so I secured his head in place with one hand and cut with the other. The results were...not so good. The next night, determined to even out my little Lloyd from Dumb and Dumber, I made it even worse. I mean, it is bad. Keith actually told me not to touch it anymore, to let it grow out. Keith said that. Keith the most mellow husband in the world told me to not cut another hair on my son's head.
He's not wrong. Owen looks like he cut his own hair. Blindfolded. With a pair of craft scissors. Or a backhoe.
He's not wrong. Owen looks like he cut his own hair. Blindfolded. With a pair of craft scissors. Or a backhoe.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Snappy dresser
Owen gets that we require he wear a hat outside when the sun is up. When your kid is a little baldie like Owen, hats are non-negotiable. He now thinks that if he brings a hat to us, or puts one on himself, he gets to go outside. Yesterday he grabbed his sneakers, brought us a hat, and...truly, how could we resist?
For my homies
This one is going out to my sister, Erin - HOLLA! She told me this morning, "You haven't updated your blog in FOREVER. I've already read Duck Snuggles!!" So...you're saying you don't want to read it every day? Hm.
So, here we go - a new post!
Keith and I got iPhones a week and a half ago. I don't remember my life before Owen, and I also don't remember what I did before the internet. Now, I'm starting to feel the same kind of freaky dependent love for my iPhone. You can check email ANYWHERE! You can read books? Are you lost? No problem - built in GPS with directions! Yellow Pages - no worries! Want to surf the web - have at it. Texting? Phoning? Butofcourse. If I'm talking to my sister and my mom calls, well no problem, I can just ADD the call and make it a conference. Not convinced yet? Well, here is one other option:
The iPhone comes with lots of Applications you can download. For example, I've downloaded a Movie application that finds where I am on GPS and lists all the theaters and showtimes for me. I've also downloaded a reading application that comes with hundreds of free books. There are too many to describe, and probably only 1/100th of them are useful in any sense of the word.
For example, Keith has gone a different direction than me with his application choices. He has downloaded the application that looks like a glass of beer, and when you tilt your iPhone, it looks like you're emptying it (haha! DRINKING THE BEER!). He has also downloaded the application that has a cowbell - you tap it with your finger and it makes (you guessed it!) the cowbell sound! Hours of fun. But, my favorite one is the one that translates what you dictate. I don't remember what it is called and if Keith were here and not out buying me booze he could remind me, but essentially you can record up to 15 seconds of dictation and it translates it into notes automatically. He showed me his test and true to claim I saw the words "Does this thing really work?" So I dictated a shopping list: bananas, cheerios, salsa, paper towels. It gave me this: "I am tired. Me bill."
Totally.
So, here we go - a new post!
Keith and I got iPhones a week and a half ago. I don't remember my life before Owen, and I also don't remember what I did before the internet. Now, I'm starting to feel the same kind of freaky dependent love for my iPhone. You can check email ANYWHERE! You can read books? Are you lost? No problem - built in GPS with directions! Yellow Pages - no worries! Want to surf the web - have at it. Texting? Phoning? Butofcourse. If I'm talking to my sister and my mom calls, well no problem, I can just ADD the call and make it a conference. Not convinced yet? Well, here is one other option:
The iPhone comes with lots of Applications you can download. For example, I've downloaded a Movie application that finds where I am on GPS and lists all the theaters and showtimes for me. I've also downloaded a reading application that comes with hundreds of free books. There are too many to describe, and probably only 1/100th of them are useful in any sense of the word.
For example, Keith has gone a different direction than me with his application choices. He has downloaded the application that looks like a glass of beer, and when you tilt your iPhone, it looks like you're emptying it (haha! DRINKING THE BEER!). He has also downloaded the application that has a cowbell - you tap it with your finger and it makes (you guessed it!) the cowbell sound! Hours of fun. But, my favorite one is the one that translates what you dictate. I don't remember what it is called and if Keith were here and not out buying me booze he could remind me, but essentially you can record up to 15 seconds of dictation and it translates it into notes automatically. He showed me his test and true to claim I saw the words "Does this thing really work?" So I dictated a shopping list: bananas, cheerios, salsa, paper towels. It gave me this: "I am tired. Me bill."
Totally.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Duck snuggles
I've spent some time lately in Owen's daycare, and one of the things I've noticed is that the girls all play with dolls and the boys mostly knock things over and shake things. There are a couple exceptions, but they are rare.
During free-play, the girls will grab a doll, grab a scarf ("blanket") and wrap the doll, hold her cradle-style, then unwrap and re-wrap the doll. Lather, rinse, repeat. Sometimes they will have Judy, Maria, (or me when I'm visiting) help them swaddle their "baby". As an aforementioned exception to the gender roles, when I was visiting a couple weeks ago Owen was carrying a baby around as well. Except that he was holding it over his shoulder, not cradle style. Oh, and also: the feet were resting on his shoulder, the head hanging down, and Owen's chubby little hand was comforting said "baby" with gentle pats on the bottom. Sweet - if not rightside-up.
In tubbies tonight I was watching Owen play with one of his rubber duckies. He was trying to wrap the duck in his washcloth. He would put the duck in the water then try to wrap the cloth around it, but the duck would bob and weave in the water and elude Owen's plans for cuddles. Finally he succeeded. He swooped the duck up (tail up, of course) and over his shoulder with such glee and pride, then said "Awwwww."
My heart - it melts.
During free-play, the girls will grab a doll, grab a scarf ("blanket") and wrap the doll, hold her cradle-style, then unwrap and re-wrap the doll. Lather, rinse, repeat. Sometimes they will have Judy, Maria, (or me when I'm visiting) help them swaddle their "baby". As an aforementioned exception to the gender roles, when I was visiting a couple weeks ago Owen was carrying a baby around as well. Except that he was holding it over his shoulder, not cradle style. Oh, and also: the feet were resting on his shoulder, the head hanging down, and Owen's chubby little hand was comforting said "baby" with gentle pats on the bottom. Sweet - if not rightside-up.
In tubbies tonight I was watching Owen play with one of his rubber duckies. He was trying to wrap the duck in his washcloth. He would put the duck in the water then try to wrap the cloth around it, but the duck would bob and weave in the water and elude Owen's plans for cuddles. Finally he succeeded. He swooped the duck up (tail up, of course) and over his shoulder with such glee and pride, then said "Awwwww."
My heart - it melts.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Zoom zoom
Owen is better. Mommyhood is back to being blissful. Owen and I went for a walk this morning and he played in the kiddie fountain and we got him some Cars crocs and it has been a fantastic morning that will soon be followed by a trip to the beach.
We passed a woman this morning who was sitting outside of Ross, watiting for it to open. I smiled warmly at her and she stared blankly at me. My eyes immediately looked down at Owen, and I wondered if she interpreted my smile as smug Momminess. I did feel happy and proud of my cute chatterbox showing off his new shoes. But mostly I just felt friendly and generous with a stranger. It contrasted so sharply with other feelings I've had this whole week.
I come back, in my head, over and over to the "roller coaster" cliche. Although at my core I believe that I could think of something more creative, the roller coaster ride really does describe motherhood so well. I've tried to concoct other, better scenarios: my rickety convertible metaphor doesn't completely work. The idea of going up and down a mountain - far too slow to capture motherhood's meteroic highs and lows. Perhaps a fast drive through San Francisco in a car with a bad clutch? Unfortunately that one only really works for locals; it might just make non-locals wonder if you see a lot of rainbow flags and eat lots of seafood and sourdough bread after becoming a mom.
Nothing compares with the emotional ups and downs of motherhood. Not even early marriage, with the constant compromising and dreaming and building of a lifetime foundation one argument and pillow-talk-whisper at a time. Motherhood is rife with heart-clutching love, stomach-punching fear, anxiety that makes you literally dizzy, and a new devotion you could not imagine would happen to you (just all those other moms). And it's perfectly normal to fly through each of these states moment to moment.
Fortunately or unfortunately for anyone reading this blog, you get to see me go through it regularly, especially this week. Fortunately for you, you don't have to read it. Keith was reading this blog the other night, catching up on my retelling of our brutal week. I asked him if I sounded insane. "Not at all," he said. The timing and tone of his reply made me think he was being honest. I think what that means is that fatherhood is just as crazy a ride.
We passed a woman this morning who was sitting outside of Ross, watiting for it to open. I smiled warmly at her and she stared blankly at me. My eyes immediately looked down at Owen, and I wondered if she interpreted my smile as smug Momminess. I did feel happy and proud of my cute chatterbox showing off his new shoes. But mostly I just felt friendly and generous with a stranger. It contrasted so sharply with other feelings I've had this whole week.
I come back, in my head, over and over to the "roller coaster" cliche. Although at my core I believe that I could think of something more creative, the roller coaster ride really does describe motherhood so well. I've tried to concoct other, better scenarios: my rickety convertible metaphor doesn't completely work. The idea of going up and down a mountain - far too slow to capture motherhood's meteroic highs and lows. Perhaps a fast drive through San Francisco in a car with a bad clutch? Unfortunately that one only really works for locals; it might just make non-locals wonder if you see a lot of rainbow flags and eat lots of seafood and sourdough bread after becoming a mom.
Nothing compares with the emotional ups and downs of motherhood. Not even early marriage, with the constant compromising and dreaming and building of a lifetime foundation one argument and pillow-talk-whisper at a time. Motherhood is rife with heart-clutching love, stomach-punching fear, anxiety that makes you literally dizzy, and a new devotion you could not imagine would happen to you (just all those other moms). And it's perfectly normal to fly through each of these states moment to moment.
Fortunately or unfortunately for anyone reading this blog, you get to see me go through it regularly, especially this week. Fortunately for you, you don't have to read it. Keith was reading this blog the other night, catching up on my retelling of our brutal week. I asked him if I sounded insane. "Not at all," he said. The timing and tone of his reply made me think he was being honest. I think what that means is that fatherhood is just as crazy a ride.
Friday, July 4, 2008
Fire...barfs
Owen has a barfing sickness.
In spite of this, we had a lovely day in San Diego with Sharon, Clayton and Amy.
How can both things be true, you ask? Well, given that Owen was sick Monday and Tuesday, then I was home with Mr. Bites on Wednesday, and spent a good chunk of the day with him at daycare yesterday, even though he seemed a little under the weather this morning ("Oh, I think he barfed because I jostled him when I picked him up", says Keith and I agree. What were we thinking?) I was NOT sitting in our house today. So: we headed south with zero traffic into lovely San Diego weather.
We hit the kids science center, played a bit, then grabbed lunch. This was when Owen, looking punkier by the second, pukes huge volumes of vomit all over me and the ground next to us. I felt very sad for the diners around us, but more sad for Owen...and then also a lot sad for myself completely covered in baby vomit. We headed back to S&C's house for clean-up.
The boy felt a bit better after that, played a bit, we really enjoyed the day overall. I know Owen will be ok, and I managed to get in some good quality snuggles even if they were slightly anxious is-my-baby-really-ok snuggles. We ate an amazing dinner. Owen barfed again, looked awful, we headed home, he barfed about 5 more gallons when we walked in the door, and now he's sleeping (on his SIDE) while I vent in this blog that is now becoming my personal vent-all journal.
What the hell? I almost hope no one reads this for awhile because I'm so ridiculously obsessed with this shittiest of weeks and every movement that my kid makes. Sick, biting, daycare-shadowing, puking. I realize that any other mother reading this is thinking "Welcome to motherhood, Lo" and you'd be right. Welcome indeed. We've been relatively lucky to be spared the barfing sickness (it's true: this morning was the first time Owen ever really vomited). But this week I feel like, up to now, motherhood has been like holding a baby while driving in a slightly rickety convertible - I'm not entirely comfortable that everything will always go smoothly and that I always have a grasp on things, and most of the time my hair is a disaster but I don't care because I'm having so much fun. But this week, someone took away the windshield, and oh, also the steering wheel and tires, so I'm carreening along in this bumpy rickety car getting bugs in my teeth and vomit on my pants and I have no idea how to steer or where we're going.
In spite of this, we had a lovely day in San Diego with Sharon, Clayton and Amy.
How can both things be true, you ask? Well, given that Owen was sick Monday and Tuesday, then I was home with Mr. Bites on Wednesday, and spent a good chunk of the day with him at daycare yesterday, even though he seemed a little under the weather this morning ("Oh, I think he barfed because I jostled him when I picked him up", says Keith and I agree. What were we thinking?) I was NOT sitting in our house today. So: we headed south with zero traffic into lovely San Diego weather.
We hit the kids science center, played a bit, then grabbed lunch. This was when Owen, looking punkier by the second, pukes huge volumes of vomit all over me and the ground next to us. I felt very sad for the diners around us, but more sad for Owen...and then also a lot sad for myself completely covered in baby vomit. We headed back to S&C's house for clean-up.
The boy felt a bit better after that, played a bit, we really enjoyed the day overall. I know Owen will be ok, and I managed to get in some good quality snuggles even if they were slightly anxious is-my-baby-really-ok snuggles. We ate an amazing dinner. Owen barfed again, looked awful, we headed home, he barfed about 5 more gallons when we walked in the door, and now he's sleeping (on his SIDE) while I vent in this blog that is now becoming my personal vent-all journal.
What the hell? I almost hope no one reads this for awhile because I'm so ridiculously obsessed with this shittiest of weeks and every movement that my kid makes. Sick, biting, daycare-shadowing, puking. I realize that any other mother reading this is thinking "Welcome to motherhood, Lo" and you'd be right. Welcome indeed. We've been relatively lucky to be spared the barfing sickness (it's true: this morning was the first time Owen ever really vomited). But this week I feel like, up to now, motherhood has been like holding a baby while driving in a slightly rickety convertible - I'm not entirely comfortable that everything will always go smoothly and that I always have a grasp on things, and most of the time my hair is a disaster but I don't care because I'm having so much fun. But this week, someone took away the windshield, and oh, also the steering wheel and tires, so I'm carreening along in this bumpy rickety car getting bugs in my teeth and vomit on my pants and I have no idea how to steer or where we're going.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
There are other things in my life, you know
Just reading all this biting nonsense, then sitting back and thinking about the past few weeks...it occurred to me that I haven't commented at all on the amazing visit from Jess. Anyone reading this likely knows that Jess is one of my best friends who cruelly left Jenn, Kate, Joie, and I alone to wade through the relative dearth of hilarious drunken instigators remaining in OC. At least the ones we would ever care to hang out with.
We had girls night on Saturday night at Kate's (favorite moments: Jenn describing her 80/20 2-word life-organization philosophy and I asked her if her two words were "canisters" and "clutter" - she claimed they were "motherfucker" and something else but I was working so hard not to pee my pants after all that that I missed the second word. I'm pretty sure it was her 20 anyway, and I'm pretty sure it was "canisters". To be fair, mine would be "Target" and "clutter" so I wasn't exactly throwing stones from my stone castle).
Sunday was a picnic at the park with all the kiddos and some of the girls (missed you, Joie). Lucky for us the park had a fantastic watering toy, so everyone stayed cool. (favorite moment: Kate and Owen's nose-kiss). Click on pic to make it larger.
Monday night was dinner at the Melting Pot. There were too many moments to describe, and I'm sure I won't do any of them justice, but I wish we could do it every Monday. I often forget how funny Jess is, and how she makes me laugh like no one else. How we all know each other so well that a look, a word, a gesture sends us dissolving into ridiuculous cackling. I know we're never going to convince her to move back here, but I certainly hope she knows how missed she is.
We had girls night on Saturday night at Kate's (favorite moments: Jenn describing her 80/20 2-word life-organization philosophy and I asked her if her two words were "canisters" and "clutter" - she claimed they were "motherfucker" and something else but I was working so hard not to pee my pants after all that that I missed the second word. I'm pretty sure it was her 20 anyway, and I'm pretty sure it was "canisters". To be fair, mine would be "Target" and "clutter" so I wasn't exactly throwing stones from my stone castle).
Sunday was a picnic at the park with all the kiddos and some of the girls (missed you, Joie). Lucky for us the park had a fantastic watering toy, so everyone stayed cool. (favorite moment: Kate and Owen's nose-kiss). Click on pic to make it larger.
Monday night was dinner at the Melting Pot. There were too many moments to describe, and I'm sure I won't do any of them justice, but I wish we could do it every Monday. I often forget how funny Jess is, and how she makes me laugh like no one else. How we all know each other so well that a look, a word, a gesture sends us dissolving into ridiuculous cackling. I know we're never going to convince her to move back here, but I certainly hope she knows how missed she is.
Hanging in there
I went to daycare with Owen today. Not exactly what Keith and I had in mind for our Date Day v2.0, but it is what it is.
I realize that I'm a neurotic mess about this but at the same time I kind of have to be. And also, this whole motherhood thing has really amplified my complete inability to filter out stress. I can't miss more work. Owen is likely to try again to bite. And if he succeeds, we'll have to (1) stay home with him for a week and then possibly (2) leave Turtle Rock which will mean that I have to look into finding another place for him, which is more time away from work. It's exhausting that this is taking up so much space in my brain, but I almost feel like someone has hung a bowling ball from my earring and then told me to try to ignore it.
I see lots of opportunities for him to bite other kids without Maria or Judy being able to get to him in time, so I understand their dilemma. Just like there are plenty of opportunities for the other kids to push, smack, or steal toys from the other kids; these are all age-appropriate behaviors, but biting is the social taboo of toddlerhood. Whenever I tell someone this situation I always feel the need to emphasize the teething while flashing my I'm-a-loving-Mommy jazz hands and insisting that my kid really is as great as I say he is. And, it's all true. He's not biting because he's a mean kid. He's biting because, well, baby fingers feel good on teething gums. Everyone is pretty clear about why it started; we're just worried that it's turning into a habit to grab fingers and put them in his mouth.
Anyway, life goes on. Keith and I went to Gypsy Den for lunch while Owen napped, then grabbed a beer at the Goat Hill Tavern, and Keith housed me at shuffleboard. After ordering too much food at lunch, I was far too full to drink my beer, and Keith was far too interested in their beer selection to leave in a time-frame that suited my anxiety about picking Owen up after his nap. It was a fun afternoon, but I was just too distracted to really enjoy it. Hey, on a happy note, my camera is fixed so we'll be able to upload new photos soon. More jazz hands!
Once we got home the fun finally, truly began. Books galore with an adorably goofy and affectionate kiddo. I got to listen to the boys play, read, and wrestle while I cooked dinner. Owen and I did tubbies and then the little Man went to sleep snuggled against me. I love being a Mom so much. I just wish I knew that I was doing everything right.
I realize that I'm a neurotic mess about this but at the same time I kind of have to be. And also, this whole motherhood thing has really amplified my complete inability to filter out stress. I can't miss more work. Owen is likely to try again to bite. And if he succeeds, we'll have to (1) stay home with him for a week and then possibly (2) leave Turtle Rock which will mean that I have to look into finding another place for him, which is more time away from work. It's exhausting that this is taking up so much space in my brain, but I almost feel like someone has hung a bowling ball from my earring and then told me to try to ignore it.
I see lots of opportunities for him to bite other kids without Maria or Judy being able to get to him in time, so I understand their dilemma. Just like there are plenty of opportunities for the other kids to push, smack, or steal toys from the other kids; these are all age-appropriate behaviors, but biting is the social taboo of toddlerhood. Whenever I tell someone this situation I always feel the need to emphasize the teething while flashing my I'm-a-loving-Mommy jazz hands and insisting that my kid really is as great as I say he is. And, it's all true. He's not biting because he's a mean kid. He's biting because, well, baby fingers feel good on teething gums. Everyone is pretty clear about why it started; we're just worried that it's turning into a habit to grab fingers and put them in his mouth.
Anyway, life goes on. Keith and I went to Gypsy Den for lunch while Owen napped, then grabbed a beer at the Goat Hill Tavern, and Keith housed me at shuffleboard. After ordering too much food at lunch, I was far too full to drink my beer, and Keith was far too interested in their beer selection to leave in a time-frame that suited my anxiety about picking Owen up after his nap. It was a fun afternoon, but I was just too distracted to really enjoy it. Hey, on a happy note, my camera is fixed so we'll be able to upload new photos soon. More jazz hands!
Once we got home the fun finally, truly began. Books galore with an adorably goofy and affectionate kiddo. I got to listen to the boys play, read, and wrestle while I cooked dinner. Owen and I did tubbies and then the little Man went to sleep snuggled against me. I love being a Mom so much. I just wish I knew that I was doing everything right.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Puddle
I'm a wreck today.
Owen bit another child at daycare again - he constantly has his hands in his mouth and his teachers are totally sympathetic to the teething situation, but still I had to pick him up from daycare today. Another bite and he's home for a week. A fourth bite, and he's out.
Aside from the fact that it sucks that he bit another kid, the timing really could not be worse. We kept him home Monday and Tuesday because of his fever. I had a new employee start Monday and have barely spent any time with her. Employee of the year, I am not.
I came home and put a snoozing Owen in bed for the remainder of his nap. When I picked him up out of his car seat, he put his little arms around my neck and I was struck again with just how sweet and loving he is. What is this biting about? Is it just teething or is it more? Is he overwhelmed with 8 other kids around?
I came to the computer to look into in-home daycare and nanny options - all of which appear to be significantly cheaper than what we're doing right now, but somehow the thought of taking Owen out of Turtle Rock makes my heart lurch. When we pulled up at the school this morning, he said "Yay yay yay!" He ran into his room, so happy to be back. More than knowing that he loves it there, being able to take Owen to Turtle Rock daycare is somehow intricately linked to my sanity. Going back to work was so hard and knowing that he was there made it a million times easier, at least that is what I think.
So the thought of putting him in a different daycare setting without lots of friends, without all the play yards, without all the women who literally beam when he walks in the door every morning, it just breaks my heart and I am a total puddle.
They told me to wait - we don't need to find another option yet and we'll keep working on it, but I just don't know how hopeful I am that my little 15-month old can follow their guidelines.
Owen bit another child at daycare again - he constantly has his hands in his mouth and his teachers are totally sympathetic to the teething situation, but still I had to pick him up from daycare today. Another bite and he's home for a week. A fourth bite, and he's out.
Aside from the fact that it sucks that he bit another kid, the timing really could not be worse. We kept him home Monday and Tuesday because of his fever. I had a new employee start Monday and have barely spent any time with her. Employee of the year, I am not.
I came home and put a snoozing Owen in bed for the remainder of his nap. When I picked him up out of his car seat, he put his little arms around my neck and I was struck again with just how sweet and loving he is. What is this biting about? Is it just teething or is it more? Is he overwhelmed with 8 other kids around?
I came to the computer to look into in-home daycare and nanny options - all of which appear to be significantly cheaper than what we're doing right now, but somehow the thought of taking Owen out of Turtle Rock makes my heart lurch. When we pulled up at the school this morning, he said "Yay yay yay!" He ran into his room, so happy to be back. More than knowing that he loves it there, being able to take Owen to Turtle Rock daycare is somehow intricately linked to my sanity. Going back to work was so hard and knowing that he was there made it a million times easier, at least that is what I think.
So the thought of putting him in a different daycare setting without lots of friends, without all the play yards, without all the women who literally beam when he walks in the door every morning, it just breaks my heart and I am a total puddle.
They told me to wait - we don't need to find another option yet and we'll keep working on it, but I just don't know how hopeful I am that my little 15-month old can follow their guidelines.
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