When I was pregnant with G and we were frantically trying to figure out our budget for our family and a new baby and a J.Crew habit, the discussion of the D word came up.
No not that D word. That would be absurd.
Daycare. (duh duh duuuuh …scary music).
2 years ago, at the mere mention of the word, I started crying. See, despite my outward bitchiness, my level of empathy for babies, animals and kids who get bullied, is like off the charts. Last weekend I ran upstairs in tears when my family decided to watch Planet of the Apes. THEY WERE GOING TO KILL A BABY APE.
Anyway, so the thought of leaving my baby in the hands of perfectly capable strangers was unthinkable. What if my baby thinks that I abandoned him? What if they leave him in a crib all day? What if they dress him up like Hello Kitty and post it to YouTube? So we made it work and I stayed home with G for 16 months.
And here we are 16 months later. And G is running and climbing and playing and hugging and kicking and dancing and ready for some social time. And just as that thought entered my brain, an amazing opportunity came my way.
Starting in May, I will be a contributing writer at Babble.com. I’ll be writing for them 3 times a week and I’m really very excited about it. Because I’ll be getting a real salary. Like real sort of money. And trust me, we need it. We need it badly enough that I’m calling every day care on the block asking about part time availability for G and how quickly I can cart his cloth diapered butt over there.
And I don’t have one ounce of hesitation about it.
See, there came a point in our relationship (me and G) where mom just wasn’t as fun anymore. The sensory box was kind of where things ended. G needs way more stimulation that I can provide him on a daily basis and I’m happy to leave that to the professionals. He wants crap like creative water play and building shit and running around in masks. I just don’t have it in me. And while G is doing his thing with smart kid people, I will actually have time to “work”.
And then I realized this: It’s happened. It’s really happened. I’m going to work and doing what I love. That’s the dream. That’s what Oprah always told me. Do what you love and it’s not work. Do what you love and you’ll be good at it. And that’s why I’m so excited to be working for the people at Babble and to working for myself on MODG (don’t worry I won’t forget about our little place here on the internet. We’re still boys) and getting to do things like Listen to your Mother. This signifies me growing up and growing into something that is really me. Because me wasn’t a recruiter and me wasn’t in an office from 9-5 and me was happier than that.
And that’s why I’m more than OK with daycare now. Because I can proudly be a mom who is teaching G by example to do what you love for a lot or a little money. It makes all the difference in who you are. And who I am is…a writer?? Yeah, I still can’t really say that without giggling a little under my breath.
But B likes to say, who I am is working for Disney. BARF. Babble was just bought by Disney. Let’s just say I’m Pooh and Mickey’s #1 street enemy. So yes, B runs around singing M-I-C SEE YOU REAL SOON. And I say, I’ll see your ass handed to your face. Or something like that.
I’m looking forward to this next part of my life. I think I’m going to learn a lot more about being a mom and who I am as a non mom too. And I probably won’t worry so much about Hello Kitty porn. Will I put future baby #2 in daycare? Probably not for a while. I understand why people have to do it and they have all of my respect in the world, but I will move a mountain of rabid squirrels before I give that first year of my newborn’s life to someone else. I’m lucky because I have that choice.
And I’m lucky because I’m making a little dream happen.
And I’m lucky that you’re still reading this because the cheese level is at about a 9 right now.
Happy Day MODG.