I started doing some part time work recently and there is now a lovely lady, let's call her Dena, that's watching the kids 2 to 3 days a week while I work. Her home seemed happy, her references were outstanding and yet I feel like a total snob for not being in love with her.
Dena smokes. Not around the kids, but when they come home they smell smokey from being in her house. When I picked the kids up tonight she was drinking a glass of white wine. It was almost 6pm. But really, couldn't she wait another hour till all the kids were gone? And she told me she "tapped" my daughter's hand today when she poured a plate of spaghetti on her white bedspread. Now I can see why the noodle incident would make a person flip out. But why was the one year old not in a high chair when eating a bowl of red pasta?
I keep talking myself down because the kids seem pretty happy. My daughter is actually ecstatic about going to her house. She kissed her goodbye and you would have thought I dropped her off at a kegger the way she was whoop'n and holler'n when we got there this morning. My son is a bit moody about it, but he's a little moody about pretty much anyone but mommy or daddy taking care of him.
So what's my point? I really don't know. I'm just overwhelmed with the daycare experience. It's only for several days a week. And let me stress how much I love what I'm doing right now. I love it! It's so nice to smell good and use my brain. But I didn't realize how much I would miss nuzzling their heads whenever I needed a fix. Ugh. Ok - I'm going to take a bath, a Xanax and my new vampire book to bed. And I plan to bring the kids to bed with us tonight because I need to feel their cold feet on my back so I'll appreciate that time away again.