Daycare Days

   Since mid September Oliver has been going to daycare full time. On a recommendation from a friend, we found a lovely little home daycare run by a fantastic lady named Margaret. She only has three other kids there, one girl and two other boys. All are older than Oliver and as a result he quickly became their baby and gets a lot of attention. Margaret takes great care of him, and is very accommodating to our needs. Primarily, she lets us use cloth diapers and doesn't mind me coming over the lunch hour to nurse. 
   I wasn't sure how I was going to feel about daycare. I was very lucky to be able to keep Oliver with me for the first four months. Most moms are not so lucky. I was a little worried about his transition with things like napping and eating. He really didn't take a bottle well and was exclusively breast fed, so I was worried he wouldn't eat for her. Also, his napping schedule was really random, but that wasn't really a problem when he was with me, but how would it work in a daycare full of noisy toddlers? But in addition to those questions, I worried how I would handle the transition. Oliver is the most important person in my life and I spend most of my time thinking about him or at least in the back of my mind. I chafed at the idea that someone else gets to spend all of his waking hours with him, and all I got were the few hours after work when he was usually at his crankiest. It didn't seem fair. It seemed even less fair when I discovered that the majority of first world countries gave many more months of maternity leave than the US does, and it is paid or at least partially subsidized. I worried that he would like Margaret more than me, and she would be the one to see all his first moments. 

Anders and Oliver

   Luckily, Margaret was well versed in dealing with parents. I am sure the parent's issues are often worse than the kids. She was very calm and reassuring, but at the same time not coddling. She assured me she would call if Oliver were inconsolable at all. Of course she never had to call. Oliver did great. In fact, I can securely say he LOVES daycare. He has so much fun and has taken to the other kids. Now when he is at home with me on weekends, sometimes I feel like he is bored. Daycare has better toys and more friends. He has become besties with one of the little boys named Anders. Anders called Oliver MY baby, with emphasis on the MY. He always runs to see him when I show up in the morning, and climbs up on a stool to peer in at him in the car seat. He brings him toys during the day, and is very gentle when replacing his bink if it falls out or is snatched out by another kid. Why are other kids fascinated with babies' pacifiers? This seems to be true at least with all the kids Oliver and I have encountered. 
   Flash forward: it has been almost three months of daycare and I realize that I have very different feelings about it now. I love that Oliver gets to be with other kids and do neat things every day. I probably wouldn't be nearly as stimulating and entertaining for him if I were a stay at home mom. At least I would really have to step up my game and figure out activities and play dates every day and I am WAY too lazy for that. I also no longer worry that he will forget me, or like Margaret more. I understand that I am not the ONLY person in his life, and he can like others and still love me. And there is one thing that I have that no one else has, the almighty boob. I am still breastfeeding Oliver on a regular basis and that role can't be supplanted. 
   The other neat result of daycare is my fondness for Margaret. Since I go there at lunch to nurse Oliver, I see her a lot and we chat about things. She is very knowledgeable about children, was trained as a midwife and is generally a very down to earth hippy-type like me. She is kind and thoughtful and I know she genuinely cares about Oliver and is happy to see him every day. I look forward to seeing her too and feel very lucky to have such a person filling that role in Oliver's life.