Usually the worst part of a Monday is leaving Miles at daycare -- the first day back after having had him all to myself is always the hardest. Since yesterday was MLK day, the worst part of my Tuesday so far has been leaving Miles at daycare.
For some reason today was more difficult than almost any other day...
There are now 8 babies (including him) in that room. When I got there, Cruz and Sawyer were being fed cereal, each of them crying while the other one was getting his spoon; Lily was being held; Oliver and Maren were playing in the toys; that one weird looking baby whose name I can't remember was lying under her activity mat; and the new baby, Isaac was crying in the swing.
I put my sweet boy down on the mat in the midst of all that, and he looked at me as if to say, "Why are you leaving me here with all the crazy, loud kids, Mom?"
It was so sad. And now I feel mad and am about to cry. How come my kid doesn't get to have a stay-at-home mom or more personalized attention? We already pay a tuition that is more than our mortgage each month. Shouldn't that ensure I feel good about his care every time I leave him?
Because right now all I want to do is use a sick day and go get him, gather him up in my arms and smell his sweet baby smell and take him home where he belongs.
Being a mom is hard.
But being a working mom is even harder.