Child Careworn

I hate this.

Another disaster again this morning. It seems maybe Sadie's not ready for daycare after all, and I'd been feeling so good about it. Once again there are many options laid before us and I have no idea which is the right one.

I took her back to Rose's today. We'd spoken about it on the phone; I'd explained Sadie's great physical progress, her fantastic attitude with the kids she met over the holidays and how at ease she'd seemed, her improved coping skills.We agreed to a trial period, just a couple of hours with Rose and the three kids she's currently watching, to see how she'd do.

I brought her over in the morning, around 9am. the three kids (two girls a little under 3 years old and a baby about Sadie's age) were hanging out and playing. They greeted her with hugs and interest. As I sat on the couch, where Sadie could see me, I watched her join their playing, waited until she was no longer paying attention to me, and snuck out the door. It all seemed to work seamlessly.

When I walked in the front door ten minutes later, there was already a message on the answering machine from Rose. I'd accidentally taken Sadie's diaper bag with me when I left -- could I bring it back? I called her back to tell her I was on my way, and suddenly I could hear Sadie's wail in the background. I guess she'd been doing great right up to that point, and then when Rose left the room to answer the phone, she lost it. I tried not to be too upset about it -- remembering that Sadie now has the ability to calm herself down the way she couldn't when she was younger.

But...of course...she doesn't have that ability. If she did, we wouldn't be dropping insane amounts of money on child psychologists on the advice of our physical therapist, who puts up with Sadie's freak-outs on a weekly basis. As I pulled up outside Rose's and she walked out the door with Sadie in her arms, my heart sank and I already knew what she was going to say.

Now, thirty minutes later, I'm home, Sadie is asleep and I'm doing what I can to hold the panic at bay.

What in the world is the right thing to do here? Not to sound petulant, but this nanny situation SUCKS. Twice now we've lost a nanny unexpectedly, with no advance warning, and each time I've had to battle anger and disappointment over the idea that someone I've allowed into my home, to be alone with my daughter, could simply walk out on us, could not be bothered to handle her job duties with courtesy and honesty. Each time I have dreaded going through the hiring and training process all over again.

Beyond that, I hate being driven out of my own house every day. I hate having to haunt coffeehouses and libraries to get my work done, to be unable to do things like participate in a conference call unless I've locked myself in my car, or clean the house because if Sadie sees me walk into the room she wants to come to me and bursts into tears when she can't.

I hate that I've begun to resent the dogs, who wake Sadie up from her midday naps by barking every time someone comes to the door.

But how can I leave my daughter at a day care facility if she clearly isn't ready? I'm so frustrated; I thought she WAS ready. Did I just talk myself into thinking this was the case because I wanted it to be true?

Yesterday we visited a different daycare. This one had lots of kids and noise. It reminded me of Happy Star, except that this time Sadie squirmed to get down and play -- she wanted to follow the other kids around, wanted to greet people, seemed to care less about my whereabouts. She chattered cheerfully at the day care owner. The woman LOVED Sadie -- wanted her to start immediately and said she thought she'd be a good fit with their environment.

Why was Sadie's attitude so different yesterday -- Was it because I was there in the room with her and she felt my presence even when she wasn't consciously paying attention to me? Or was it something more trivial, like the fact that it was four in the afternoon? I'd brought her to Rose's at 9am, the time when she'd typically be winding down for a late morning nap. Had it been a stupid idea to think she wouldn't freak out when I suddenly left her in a room full of active kids when what she really wanted was to be in a dark, quiet room snuggling with her blanket? Was it because she'd been to Rose's in the past and remembered it as a crying place -- would somewhere new, a blank slate, feel (ironically) more reassuring?

I don't know the answers to any of these, and with each wrong choice I make, the consequence is just a little bit greater. I can't just haul Sadie off to different day care facilities indefinitely, hoping that I stumble upon the perfect one. I can't just continue to hire nannies, hoping that I'll find someone who doesn't mind working only part time and constantly shuffling their schedule to deal with Sadie's and my unpredictable needs; I have to acknowledge that someone that good at their job is eventually going to find a position with steadier and better-paying work.

Each time this happens, my schedule is thrown into a complete tailspin. This is difficult enough in any month, but right now it's disastrous. There are no less than nine doctors or medical experts of various types I'd made appointments to see this month either with Sadie or without -- the pediatrician, the physical therapist, the psychologist, the dentist, imaging specialists, my GP, my OB, the MRI people, my back doctor. And those are just the doctor's appointments. When I think about the fact that I have two massive freelance projects about to arrive at my doorstep, plus another job working for my mom, it makes me feel like I'm about to hyperventilate. I want to curl up into the fetal position. I want someone to pop a pacifier into my mouth and hand me my special blanket. I wish it were that easy.