Thursday, January 25, 2007
Last week I got the call I had forgotten I was expecting. Many months ago I contacted a local Mother's Day Out program, otherwise known as "Mother's Day of Sanity". Jadyn was put on a waiting list, a fact I eventually stored where I keep most information not necessary for getting through life as a working stay at home mother.
I was in Wal-Mart when I got the call. There was an opening for Jadyn. Did I want it?
I was torn. The idea of going to staff meeting and not chasing her around the room, preventing her from tipping over coffee cups or sticking her fingers in power sockets - well, that sounded wonderful. But handing her over for a full day to be cared for by others - well, that sounded a little scary. Socially, she would love it. Financially, could we handle it?
All the input from friends has been an emphatic, "DO IT!" They agree that once you do it, you will FIND the money to make it happen. So Paul and I talked about it and decided to swallow hard and make the jump.
Today we went to check out the room, meet the teachers and register. She walked into the room, picked up a ball and was immediately at home. I, on the other hand, proceded with trepidation, asking all sorts of questions about food, naps, play time, etc. Eventually I signed on the proverbial dotted line.
She starts on February 1st. I'm either so excited I'm scared or so scared I'm excited. I'm not sure which.
Tell me, fellow bloggers, whether or not you've entered the world of daycare, and how you've fared thus far!
Monday, January 15, 2007
This post brought me to tears. My last grandparent, PopPop, just passed in December. Jadyn was his only great-grandchild, and though they met only once, I cherish the photo that captured this moment.
Before Jadyn came along, I never realized how much there was to fear in life. I too worry about the myriad of things over which I have no control, and I find myself especially concerned that she may make some of my most costly and painful mistakes, in spite of my trying to lead her away from them.
But I also never realized how much joy I was missing before she arrived. Every day brings something new to smile about. The sweet way she says “Bye-bye”, how she throws her hands up in cheer when I say “Roll Tide” (the Univ. of AL battle cry), how she says “Mama” when she sees a picture of me, the way she happily greets everyone with such innocent enthusiasm.
Thank you, Liz. Your writing inspires me to express my own heart.