Have We Completely Messed Them Up Yet?

Becoming a parent, I believe, can rock the foundation of even the most confident of people. I remember leaving the hospital with L, my husband and I pondered that the only instructions we really received were "Don't shake the baby" and "This is how you put them in the car seat." Since I am a person predisposed to ridiculous anxiety and well versed in the unending game of "What If" I felt maybe more training should be required, or at least recommended.

There is so much potential in brand new people. I choose the worst possible way to deal with my questions and anxieties, I google things. Shockingly, the results are rarely accurate or curtail my anxieties. Often, it provides entirely new subject matters for me to worry about, and subsequently google.  Its a vicious and repetitious cycle. I remember being at my niece's fourth birthday, my brother in law made a fairly dark comment that somehow made me feel both better and worse. He commented that his daughter was old enough that she might start to remember things long term. Prior to this, he mused, she wouldn't even remember her parents if she was kidnapped or something happened to them. Dark, eh? All that time and effort you put in, countless sleepless nights and you wouldn't even be a memory if something happened. Yikes. At the same time, all that bumbling about will be forgotten!

Turns out, with Google, in addition to increasing your child's odds of needing long term psychotherapy, you can also increase your own.  Whether it be potty training, sleep training, food, day care, discipline styles, there are all sorts of ways to damage your children. If you turn to the internets, it doesn't matter which avenue you choose, they are all fundamentally wrong and harmful.

I've had a hard time with the day care/working mom situation. I had a predominantly stay at home mom, as did my husband. The efforts of balancing work and family were not really something I thought too much about prior to actually needing to confront them. I know I would be a horrible stay at home mom. I need structure and tasks that can be checked off a list. I need to see adults. It never really occurred to me I would stay at home. It also never occurred to me I would have a child literally cling to my neck sobbing as the daycare folks gently tried to disentangle her. I often feel torn and guilty, but I really think they are receiving better care and a wider variety of experiences than if I was keeping them at home. But you never know, What If..

As we trudged through our bedtime routine the other night, L was insistent she finish her "work." From the other room, I'm sure I sighed loudly, and walked out into the hall to see what this important project was. L & M had set up their own Office in the hallway, complete with a laptop and desk decorating fox toy. M had her baby in her lap and L was pointing things out to her on her laptop. I'm probably stretching here, but it made me feel a bit better. Maybe I'm modeling something they can improve upon with their kids. Maybe, just maybe, me working isn't going to be my major mistake, it will probably be food, but maybe I'm doing something kinda of right.

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Wasted Energy

M didn't just survive her first day at day care, M thrived at her first day of non-family day care. I was relieved she was willing to leave and come home with us at the end of the day.

Uniform, check. Favorite stuffed animal, check. New tennis shoes, check.

We arrived almost on time to a building full of emotions; lots of first day jitters mixed with the returning kids and parents happily greeting friends and teachers. Luckily M is much more social and outgoing than I am. We walked into her room and greeted the assistant teacher, Miss S. M gave me a hug and kiss and one obligatory "Tay here wit me" before succumbing to the awesome new adventures calling her name. I talked to Miss S just long enough to know I needed to leave before my presence caused to M to think there was a reason to worry. I glanced over my shoulder, wrapped the reassurances we've received over the past few days around me, and left. No tears or scenes at all, she was a little rock star. I'm not a rock star but I managed to make it to my car before any tears started.

My husband and I met in the afternoon to pick her up. We walked into similar organized chaos that is the inevitable result of having 100+ kids 5 and younger in one building. M's teacher was standing in the door, holding a smiley M. Lucky for me, as soon as she saw us she exclaimed "Mommy, Mommy!" and wiggled out of her teacher's arms and into mine.  Its reassuring I can't be replaced in one day by amazing people with cool toys and a playground. We got a detailed rundown of the day. M had a great time, a few tears at nap time, but nothing major. She had a wonderful first day, supposedly ate some hamburger. Miracles do happen.

The car ride on the way home was an explosion of toddler story telling.

She excitedly jibber-jabbed the entire way home about her new adventures, mostly the playground. Today was her second day. My husband dropped her off. I received a text saying "M gave me a hug and a kiss and walked off to say hi to Miss A, like it was day 117 in school."

Everyone knew it would be a great first day. I'm glad I have some undeniable proof to remind me each morning until my jittery emotions calm down enough to read the notes left for them by my calm, rational brain.

Completely Off Subject

This has nothing to do with food or whether or not someone is eating it. This is about unbridled, unrelenting, unsubstantiated anxiety. M starts "school" tomorrow. We've been super blessed, in the truest sense of the word not in a #Blessed sort of way, to have a wonderful lady take care of our family's kids. Its been strictly cousins and siblings up to this point. Tomorrow M branches out. She is the youngest of the herd and the family day care has run its course. It is time for new things.

I don't really do new things. I enjoy adventures; adventures that are planned out, trained for, researched, practiced, etc. Scuba is a good example. I love to dive; I feel truly relaxed underwater. I got my initial certification then my advanced certification, I've been lucky enough to go on some incredible adventures, diving with bull sharks, giant grouper, octopus, barracuda, huge tarpon etc. But I know the risks, I feel confident in my ability and the ability of those I choose to dive with, to handle any crazy situation(s) that might arise. It might be a false confidence, but I'll take it.

This guy (or gal) swam with us for most of our 50 minute dive on the most incredible dive in Little Cayman. Check out the Grouper Moon Project, www.reef.org/groupermoonproject for some simply awesome info. We were able to witness the Nassau Grouper returning from their annual migration. AMAZING

There's no training, classes or instructional kits for choosing the place/people that take care of your kids. You make the choice based on other people's experiences, gut feelings and finances. I know I have confidence in our choice. I know this because I know other people that have chosen the same place; these are some of the most selective people I know, they have higher standards for things than I do. These folks have clean homes, they have socks that match, they have older well-adjusted, kind children etc. These are all things I strive for. I know this is the right choice.

I feel like the situation is out of control, because I am not in control. The things M will experience there are out of my control:  will she eat?, will she share?, will she be kind?, will other kids share?, will other kids be kind?, will the teacher notice if something is wrong? I can't control any of this. If I'm honest, I can't control it even if I'm there watching her, she and the other kids are their own little people, they make their own choices. But this feels different.

L is in preschool again this year. I had similar anxieties about her going to preschool last year, but not as pronounced. L was a year older when she stepped out of our little nest, her language skills were more developed, she was potty trained etc, but mostly, she is L. L has always been her father's daughter. Even when she was tiny I joked that she only let me hold her because she was hungry and she needed me for food. I was the wire monkey, my husband was the warm, soft cloth monkey (google Harry F Harlow's wire vs cloth monkey experiment if I've lost you). L has never really acted like she needs me. She is a wonderfully confident, shy, but determined little girl that will be a force of nature if she wants to be.

M is different. She is a snuggler through and through. She has crazy separation anxiety, she is a mommy's girl, she has needed me in a way that I've never been needed before. She loved, demanded and required to be held, she still does. This doesn't reach medically significant levels, there is nothing wrong with her, but it makes me worry about her in ways I've always felt confident in L. Plus, she still feels so little and, I'm 100% sure this is a large contributing factor, she's our youngest.

Today was Meet the Teacher day. M didn't want to leave. She's totally enamored with the classroom, the toys, the BOOKS, the rice table and the other kids. M discovered there's a playground just outside, she is in two year old heaven on earth. The teachers are amazing. M cried when we left because she wanted to stay and continue exploring. I KNOW we've made the right choice, I just with my heart and my head communicated a bit better.