Today when I dropped my son off at daycare, the lead teacher threw a bottle at another teacher to "feed the crying little monster."
I have to get him out of there. It becomes harder and harder each day to leave him on the mat, walk out the door, and drive to work. Every impulse in me says to turn around. Part of me knows he's okay, that they are caring for him (in most ways) the best they can, and that he is safe there and getting fed and changed and put down for naps.
Another part of me feels that's not enough. Where's the love? Where's the sweetness? Why aren't they on the floor with the babies, hugging and playing with them? This is why I've posted an ad on Craigslist for a nanny.
I told my friend Kelsey today that it sounds like the premise for a bad Lifetime movie. We decided Maria Menounos could play me.
And I told Kelsey's mom Mary that my mom was going to flip when she found out. Mary said I am Miles' parent, and that I have to go with my gut and do what feels right.
What feels right is not to leave him in a room where they refer to the babies as monsters and throw bottles at one another.
What feels right is to do all I can to find the best care for him from now until the end of May when I can focus all my attention on him. This is what I'll attempt to do until I feel happy about who is caring for my son.