I tried to upload a blog on Tuesday from my phone, but somehow it got deleted and never made it. So today, you get a double sized blog.
The First Week of Daycare
Monday was Evie's first day at daycare. You no doubt guessed from the title, that there would be details chronicling a daycare adventure, and now you know that your assumption was right.
Did I cry the first day I dropped her off? Apparently, one is supposed to bawl their eyes out upon driving away from their child after entrusting him or her to a partial stranger the first time. Every person I have spoke to about leaving her with our daycare provider has asked, "Did you cry?"
I did not.
Nor did I wave goodbye and shout, "So long, suckers!"
We had arrived at Tysee's about half past noon, which is the scheduled nap time for all the older children. Evelyn was asleep, as she often dozes off in a car. I'll admit, as a courtesy to Tysee, I took my time getting there.
We talked, and of course she asked if I was going to cry. I sighed, and said no, already tired from the morning's workout of being Mr. Mom while my wife was back at work (more on this to follow).
I sat my daughter down, still in her carseat and sleeping peacefully, thanked Tysee and walked back to my truck. As I closed the door I laughed a little at the thought of crying now that I had some time for myself.
I certainly didn't cry.
But I will admit, the cab of my small pickup seemed a little more empty without Evie sitting beside me. When I got home, the house seemed more quiet.
Things seemed more dull.
Yet, I did not cry. I actually thought, for a moment, that it must be the destiny of every dad to give his little girl away at least once in his life. But don't get any ideas, she's not getting married until she's in her fifties!
Well, okay. But it will be some time from now and I'm going to enjoy the hectic life of being a dad for a long, long time.
Me as Mr. Mom
This past week, before taking Evelyn to the daycare, and on my days off (Thursdays and Fridays), I have been able to spend the whole day at home with my daughter.
At first, it was all a buzz of getting bottles ready, changing diapers, picking out an outfit that looked halfway cute and then focusing on my own shower and preparation to start the day. By Wednesday, I was settled into the routine and have grown rather fond of the time I get at home with her.
I wake up around eight in the morning, not long after my wife has left for work and start the day. Before this, I was able to sleep in until ten or eleven, so... welcome to parenthood!
The first thing I get to do is check on the baby, who is wide awake and smiling at me. Often wiggling her way around and never at the same angle we put her to bed in. She's not quite rolling over yet, but she does twist and turn an awful lot.
Then, I prepare her breakfast, get her medicine ready (for her acid reflux) and head back upstairs to change her diaper and feed her. Once she's eaten, burped, and puked on me at least once I get her clothes together for the day. I have decided, though, after this week she is not going to be forced to wear socks. She often kicks them off and I'm afraid we'll just lose them.
I started to think otherwise when a very redneck sounding voice in my head simply says, "'Sides, them socks is for fancy things like funerals and weddin's." Which makes me wonder how Jeff Foxworthy worked his way into my psyche...
After she is fully clothed, Evelyn usually falls back to sleep long enough for me to shower, check my email, the news and other various things I do to start my day. By the time I have my dinner for the evening's work prepared, she's awake again and ready to eat. So we have lunch together - me with my quick sandwich or baked jalapeño poppers - and her with another bottle of milk.
Once we're done, its about time for daycare and so we load up and I drop her off with Tysee.
Thursdays and Fridays are about the same, except we get to spend the afternoons watching Doctor Who, Sports Center, and other various t.v. shows I've had recorded on the DVR for the past month. She seems to enjoy Doctor Who, though.
I think its the theme music.
Jen asked me last night when she got home how it felt being Mr. Mom. Coincidentally, I had the song by Lonestar stuck in my head all day as I changed diapers, picked out a cute little outfit and even brushed her hair (which never stays put the way I want it). The whole day just reminded me of that song, and I laughed and told her it was good.
It was.
