Five years ago we dropped 14 week old Cecilia off at day care for the first time. That initial drop off was a bit rough. I was in full robot mode with feelings set to low. Michelle had trouble finding the door through the tears. Cecilia probably handled it the best.
In the end it all worked out fine, as most things do, but in the beginning there was stress, doubt and worry. Five days before we were both scheduled to go back to work after our leaves, our original, home-based day care flaked out on us. Despite filling out the application and providing a deposit before Cece was even born, they suddenly couldn’t accommodate us until September. Here’s a tip day care professionals of the world: fragile new parents do not like surprises of any kind. I continue to harbor a grudge against the whole street and mentally put a pox on it each time I drive by for the emotional cocktail shaker they put us through.
Call it fate, synchronicity, luck or just an improving economy, but a new daycare was being built just up the street from our house. They weren’t open yet, but were close, there was a roof and staff and they were happy to take a new infant a few days early to help out some obviously frazzled new parents.
The parents are still frazzled most days, but that infant will start kindergarten next Thursday and yesterday was her last day at the Goddard School. There were definitely some ups and downs, but ultimately we made the right choice (or the right choice was made for us!).
And who knows, maybe even robots had a twinge of emotion driving away last night.