Jason and I just got back from meeting Nate's teacher. No wonder postpartum depression rates in the US are so high. We have our babies, get to spend 12 weeks with them and then say goodbye. They spend the majority of their waking time with their teachers. But don't forget girls, breast is best! Take your pump to your office and express that milk!
I know most kids go to daycare, and I'm confident that Jason and I have found the best possible environment for Nate. Volunteer grandma's come in to hold the little babies, they use cloth, I can get there without Jason and pick Nate up. I'm not worried about Nate being okay, I'm worried about me being okay. I can't imagine not being with him all day, not getting to see his smile or kiss his tears away. For Nate's part, he's happy so long as he's fed, rested and played with. He's so easygoing, and so young that I don't think the transition is going to be that hard for him.
What's funny about this entire situation is I never planned on staying home with the kid(s). I never thought I'd want to. So the fact that I'm freaking out about this as much as I am is a huge surprise to me and probably part of the reason I'm finding this so difficult. I get cabin fever so easily, and I do still feel the need to get out of the house a few times a week, but I'm not being driven crazy by being home with Nate all day. He's so much fun to interact with, and to be honest, we've been so busy that I don't feel like I'm missing out on anything.
6 days left... I better make it the best 6 days of his life.
No comments:
Post a Comment