Back to Work

Maternity leave is over. Darn. I miss it. I miss him. I have been "back" for two weeks now, and I am adjusting slowly. I have managed to ease back into work part time. This has been wonderful as I can go to work, push some papers around, and then hurry back home to spend time with my son. Its funny how when I spend three entire months with this little amazing being how weird it is when he is not by my side. I feel like a part of me is missing.

Finding good, quality day care is challenging where we live. All of the centers have waiting lists for months and only a handful take infants. Moreover, home based day care is a crap shoot and one is never really sure what they will get. For a few months now I have been surfing Craig's List and asking around only to come up dry. Rich and I spoke of our ideal situation as having an older woman, grandma type look after TJ for the first year. A situation where we really knew that TJ was getting some individualized attention.

Well, I must say that we are truly blessed because that is what we found-- and she was right under our nose. Olga. Quite a fitting name for a woman who looks after a child, don't you think? Seriously, Olga is from Romania. She has got a slight accent. She has 30 years of day care experience. She is the nursery care provider at our church on Sundays. She was not working during the week. She lives 3 blocks away from us. AND she comes to our house. No joke.

Yes, she has got her quirks. The first day she was with TJ she brought a bottle of holy water "just in case" Just in case what? Rich and I wondered. She was worried (based on the day before) that TJ would cry all day. Apparently the holy water was going to be used if he got out of hand. Just exactly how it was going to be used, we are not so sure. But hey, she has not used it yet.

The first week of care, Olga did all kinds of crafts with TJ. One day I came home to find a cut out of a little boy hanging on our staircase banister. Rich thought it was an early Halloween decoration ("it looks like a ghost", he said). Turns out it was an exact outline of the shape of our child. He was quite squirmy that day. The next day I came home to find a modern art rendition of an American Flag hanging on our door. The stars and stripes were created by TJ's feet. Of course, I did make a mental note of the fact that you do not use blue paint on a child's toes and then go to a nurse practitioner's appointment the same day. We nearly caused the nurse heart failure because she thought that TJ had lost all circulation in his feet.

So things are working out well. We are blessed. I can go to work feeling confident that TJ is getting cared for, held, loved, and even spoiled by a woman named Olga. Sure, I wish it was me instead. But this is a terrific second option. So far so good.