Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Call me crazy

There have been times in the past 15 years of my career that I've questioned my choices and sometimes even my sanity.

6 years ago, in an effort to fill spaces in my new home daycare, I took on a little boy who was the same age as Mary. Two days a week I had two one year old babies all day long. Within two weeks I questioned my choice. There were days I was run ragged, tired, drained and wondering how it was that two small people could do that to me. I was a fool to think I could handle this. I was still learning how to be the mother of two children, virtually alone because of Sean's new job, and with no prior daycare experience with infants (the centre I had worked at for 10 yrs did not have infants or todds)
But rather than giving up, sending the little guy packing, I took in another family...and another infant. This time a 10 month old.
So now I've got 3 under the age of 15 months and though I was still exhausted both physically and mentally, I managed to jug along.
But then my first little guy left the daycare and rather than enjoying the quiet and calmness of only have two babies I took in another. Again, the same age as Mary and again, I had three under 15 months.

As luck would have it that was the best decision I've ever made because, 5 years later, that sweet little girl is still in my daycare and I love her to bits.
But here's the thing. I got lucky. This little one just fit so perfectly from day one that I knew there was no way it wouldn't work. And despite having three under 15 months my days were easy, not too stressful and fun. And those memories are fresh still which is why I thought I'd try that again.

So my new little girl started today. She's a sweetie pie. Very cute and the most hysterical facial expressions I've ever seen. She's been very good natured during her *getting acquainted* visits and I'm sure she'll fit in just fine. But I'm trying now to figure out how I juggle the new 11 month old with my two 19 month olds. They are where my problems lie. They are at the *my toy* stage. My toy, my Mom, my Jean, my blankie, my cup, my air, my world.... so much of my day is spent redirecting and refereeing.

But for right now it's quiet, everyone is sleeping, I've had lunch, I've checked my email and have time to blog. I will never again take for granted being able to use the bathroom. For now my new little miss has to come with me. And it could be worse. I think back to one little character I had who screamed holy murder in the playpen at naptime, climbed out of it (unbeknown st to me) pulled all of my laundry out of the hamper all over the floor and spilled a can of diet coke all down his shirt.
I can deal with a little company in the bathroom.

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