I'm Exhausted

Physically. But even more so emotionally.

Everytime people ask me how my daycare is going and how I like her, my response is always "It's okay. I don't hate her." Which is a euphamism for the fact that there's something amiss but I can't quite pin it down. I keep getting the sneaking suspicion that my son is crying. A lot. I'm not concerned for his safety, but I never really felt like he was being nurtured and loved. It seemed like he was always crying when I went to pick him up, that he seemed really tired...not in a sleepy tired, but like he had just run a baby marathon. Other things tipped me off like when I called to check in on him one day and she told me he was napping, and then as she walked to the room he was in, she says "oh, wait. He's crying. I just couldn't hear him, it's so loud out in the living room." My question would be: so has he been crying for five minutes or forty five? He apparently sleeps for 4+ hours at a time...yet, with me, he's never slept more than 2.5. And then there's his sudden fussiness when we put him in his carseat...

Then there was the day I went to pick him up and she informed me that for some reason, he hasn't wanted to eat and hasn't had a bottle since noon. Remember, it's 5:15 now. This is my baby that still eats every 2-3 hours. So, I get home figuring he'll be famished. But, he won't nurse. Thinking he might be having nipple confusion, I offer him a bottle of breastmilk. Nope, won't take that either. He's happy and not fussing. But won't eat. So, worried I call my lactation consultant who says that while she can't say for sure, that a lot of times babies if left to cry too long will refuse to eat. Like their little bodies just shut down. Mind you, I hadn't said a word about my daycare hunches and this is what she tells me. He did finally eat at about 7.

They say mother's intuition is always right. Well, between the knot in my gut and the other little things that kept popping up, I was a mess. Actually, let's clarify: I was a mess all day today as I dropped my precious boy off at the daycare and couldn't help but wonder all day long if he was wailing helplessly. Keep in mind the dilemma of the scarcity of daycare and the (literally) hundreds of phone calls I had made only weeks ago to find everyone full. Talk about pressure.

But, regardless, there was no way I could take my boy to cry it out. I talked to some of my co-workers about names and places, coming up empty handed. Then, lo and behold, my cell phone rings at 10:30 this morning. It's a woman who got my phone number from one of the hundreds of ladies I had talked to a month ago, and wanted to know if I still needed daycare. She had an opening and while talking about it with one of her daycare friends, the friend said that she had a name and phone number laying around somewhere that she could try. That was me! Thanks God! Wow.

We went to go interview her, and loved her. The only downfall is that she is in Arroyo Grande, so Andy would have to take Henry and pick him up. Being self employed this is a bit of a hassle, and I may have to make the drive in cases of working late. But, totally worth it. She even has a website. We still have to talk it over a little tonight when Andy gets home. He really isn't thrilled about being responsible for dropping off/picking up. Not because he doesn't want to, but because it makes it harder to go in early and work late.

Now in my current ladies' defense: she's a nice lady. I don't think she's a bad person. She's really personable, friendly, and been doing it a long time. But she is really into scheduling. Which is fine, except that my guess is that it requires a lot of crying to get into the necessary schedule. And, in general, that's okay to an extent too. I just think that Henry is likely more sensitive to it than other babies might be. She takes care of other kids who all seem fine. It's just not a good fit for us.

Working full time, being a mommy, a wife (a lousy one at that!), and just trying to get through everyday life is tough. Throw in a heart condition, daycare issues, and a broken washing machine, and it's enough to drive a girl crazy. I feel beat up. This sucks but life is still so beautiful. I really shouldn't complain. I have it pretty darn good.