It's been nearly a year since Brandon began daycare. I thought the
It was different in the 80s and 90s, when I was growing up. Most moms
stayed home with their kids. I don't remember women even being asked
what their profession was - it was understood that if they had kids,
they stayed home. Thirty years has passed from when I was born and times
have changed. But my mind is nostalgic. It remembers my own childhood
and thinks that is the way childhoods should be.
I work 40 hours a week and Brandon is in daycare 45. That means at least
half of his waking hours are at daycare. I can't feel good about that.
He is learning things - he is learning what they teach him at daycare.
But his attitude, the part that I'm supposed to shape, it's the best. He is grouchy and needy and whiny. And I know that every hour that I'm with him I'm helping him at all.
Did you know children's personalities are shaped by age 5? That means I
only have four years left to right my wrongs. But I haven't quit my job.
I still work 40 hours a week. I don't know what our answer is. I don't
know if Brandon or I would like spending every waking moment together
until he goes to school. I don't know if that would replace current
stresses with different ones. I don't know a lot of things. I just know
that is an ugly creature, lurking inside of me. I want to get it out.
would subside by now. Maybe I think about it less, since I have the stresses of work occupying part of my mind, but the is still there; lurking in a dark corner of my mind, comfortable and planning to leave any time soon.