Uh, Success?

This was Z's third official week of full-day, three-days-a-week daycare. Of the roughly 20 hours a week that we are paying for, she spent exactly 4 hours this week. But this was a huge step up from last week's total of 2, read it, 2 hours. Which was a huge improvement over the first official week which included 1 glorious and gut wrenching hour of childcare.

What's to blame for our truancy? Well, the first week started with a fever and rash. The second week was a laugh riot that included a whole family snotfest and pink eye. This last week began with a 4 hour stint on Tuesday which was promptly followed by some diarrhea on Wednesday night which we only later figured out was due to her obsessively fruitopian diet but being the zealous rule follower that I am, I kept Z out of daycare on Thursday. By Friday, my mother in law was staying with us and kindly offered to take care of her while I worked my morning shift.

But if I'm being honest with myself, this week was sort of a, uh, I guess you could call it a, uh, success?

Because, on Tuesday she did some things at daycare she has never done before. She NAPPED (they swear they didn't drug her but I'm not so sure....). And ATE. And apparently her head didn't spin around while she shot sparks out of her eye sockets when her father dropped her off. And when I went to pick her up, she was her normal, crazy, toddler self the rest of the day. I mean, she doesn't seem damaged at all.

I am still terribly conflicted about Z being in daycare. (Really? It's so obvious that I don't even need to write that?) When I'm there with her I watch the amazing but tired women who work there doing a job I could never do- running in circles, with a baby in each arm, tending to diapers and bottles and insistent but totally unclear needs and books and "crafts" (for babies? and budding toddlers? Am I so lame to think that it's a little early for painting with real paint and brushes?!?!). And this is all set to a loud, ululating chorus of wailing and whimpering and tantrumming.

When faced with this scene, I have the hardest time thinking: "This is EXACTLY where I want to leave my daughter for the better part of the day!".

But maybe it's working? Maybe she's adjusting? Maybe this won't damage her? Maybe when she moves out of this baby room and into the true toddler room, it'll be different? Better? Maybe??

I do scan Craig's List for nannies on a somewhat regular basis. I also think that moving to be closer to grandparents is, perhaps, the smartest thing parents can do. That grass on either side of me is looking so very green.....