My whole life my intention was to stay home for a couple of years and not miss a breath of my childs life.
When we were planning a baby my husband dropped a bombshell: He wanted to return to study. He had been made redundant from several jobs and clearly his career wasn’t going to provide for us down the track. Already in our thirties, we didn’t have time to put off baby making. A decision was made, I would return to work at 3 months and DH would be SAHD.
Once bub was born we realised we were blessed with a content little sleepyhead. DH was also getting a few barbs about not providing for us (even though I earn enough to cover the bills), so he asked if he could work a couple of days a week for himself – my in-laws provided a ute to allow him to do this! So at 3.5mo my son started daycare 3 days a week.
I was not impressed at all, and started visiting bub at daycare in my lunch hour.
However in time I’ve started to see daycare as a blessing. I’ve gotten to see how the carers REALLY treat the children and my centre is fantastic. My little boy has blossomed with all of the attention.
At 8 months he is now clingy, but is happy to go to his carers because he knows them.
When I have a concern about a mark on him, his hearing or if he seems a bit off – I have professionals who know my child and other children his age to provide feedback. They know his routine and that it’s strange for him to only nap for 3 hours in a day, not 5.
I’m not a bad mum, my child adores me and no matter who is with, his whole face lights up when I walk in the room, even if I only left him with dadda to go to the toilet.
Posted anonymously, 7th February 2015