Everyone (everyone and their dog, to be exact) told me that the first day of daycare would be hard and then it would get easier. I had arranged for a friend to watch Moose most of the time, but when she and I had a class together he would go to the school daycare. The best circumstances we could afford (we paid this girl just next to nothing, literally).
Note to everyone (and their dog) who said it would get easier: you were WRONG! For me, it got harder and harder and harder. Months into my semester and I was miserable leaving my sweet baby in the care of anyone but myself. I didn't know if he was fed on time, if he cried when I left, if he watched tv all day. And I hated that. I wanted to kiss his boo-boos and cuddle with him and feed him.
When the time came to start student teaching, I had my assigned school already. A good school I was excited to go to... there was just one problem - I didn't want to do it. Big A was supportive but kind of at a loss. I wanted to finish my degree; I had to! Not only internally driven, my dad had made us promise I would finish my degree when he agreed to give my hand in marriage. But mostly I really needed to for myself.
I can't remember how the events occurred but Big A and I figured out that it would be more expensive (and virtually impossible for us to afford) for me to student teach. I couldn't work (or I would NEVER see my family) and we would be paying out of pocket for child care (expensive child care). So, really, it was more prudent for us to have me stay home and make no money than to spend money and student teach.
Then there was the problem with my degree. I needed a degree. I'm a very educated, nerdy, book-worm geek that can't not finish something she starts. I called my professor (not sure if I couldn't get through to my advisor but this wasn't my advisor), a very liberal man that I enjoyed but had a hard time with his lack of religion. He told me to calm down (I was crying) and to come in and we'd figure it out.
My school had stopped allowing independent study classes, but my professor signed off on, like 2 or 3 IS classes for me. Then he allowed me to enroll in two of his classes but not attend the classes (do the work outside of the classes) and meet with him when my schedule allowed. One was a night film study class and the other was a Shakespeare class that conflicted with one of my other classes I needed. So I met with my professor 1-2 hours a week and took 3-4 classes with him (film studies, Shakespeare, World Lit...and maybe one other). And in May of 2008, I graduated with a BS in English (non-teaching) and began my life as a stay-at-home mom (SAHM).
I haven't looked back since. Even on the hard days, on the really hard days in the midst of autism and potty training and speech therapy and puke, there's not one job in the world I would rather be doing. There are no other people I'd rather spend my days with than these two ridiculously adorable little boys.
|even 4-year-olds are intrigued by baby toys|
|and 2-year-olds are narcissistic just a little|
|do the Mario...|
I wrote this post as part of Mama Kat's (pretty much world famous) Writer's Workshop. Link up your WW with Mama Kat here.