I’m not quite sure why everyone thought I would have an emotional meltdown over leaving my baby in daycare. I knew that it was going to happen even before I got pregnant. It’s a fact of life (well, my life anyway). Am I sad? A little. Would I rather be looking at her than at a computer screen? Sure. But the reality is that I like to work, and I can’t bring her with me. So for all of you concerned individuals (a.k.a. mom and dad), I’m fine. Sorry to disappoint you. ;) Actually, it was easier to drop her off than it was to come into the office. Does that make me a bad mom. . . or just a bad employee? ;)
How was her first day? Well, for starters, she slept until 4:00 am. Because it was my first day back, Johnathan took the night shift (figures that she would sleep so long on his watch, right?). Quick tangent: After feeding her, he just decided to stay up. He worked on his computer, made muffins and brought me coffee. It was great! All this from the man who usually says, “So how was Mallory’s night?” Yes, even on the nights that I eventually take her into the closet to muffle her screams so he can sleep. I have offered to let him take the night shift for good. . . he has yet to take me up on that. Okay, tangent over. When we left the house, she was smiling and happy. When I dropped her off, she was still okay. She didn’t even acknowledge that I was leaving (she’s 3 months and premature. . . what did I expect?). But I picked up a very different baby. She seemed happy to hear my voice, but she was lethargic. They said she had slept all day. Ms. Johnson said that she tried many times to wake her up, but Mallory was just not having it. Unfortunately, she has a cold. So now, I’m not sure if it’s the cold or the over-stimulation factor (there are a lot of babies within earshot of her room). She was still groggy at home. . . that is until I tried to help her breathe by cleaning out her nose. She lost her mind. Don’t get me wrong. She doesn’t like it when I clean out her nose, but she usually gets over it when I stop. Not this time. She yelled and cried for a good 30 minutes. We ate dinner and then she fell asleep on Johnathan’s chest until it was time to feed her and put her to bed. Long night.
After sleeping all day, of course she did not sleep well (yes, I had the night shift. . . just figures). We didn’t go to bed until almost midnight. Then, she had me up at 1:45, 2:30, 3:30 and finally 4:00 (now who’s lethargic?). I fed her and put her back down. Everything was fine. She slept until it was almost time to go (just like yesterday). We went upstairs to say bye to Kylie (who got up late. . . but that’s another story), and we left. We were headed up the interstate, about to get off on our exit, when I heard her start gagging. . . snot, I suppose. . . or “sinus drainage” if you want to be nice about it. I had no clue of what to do. Then, it happened. She puked. I was still okay at that point. She was upright enough that I knew she wouldn’t choke. Then, she took a deep breath through a very stopped-up nose and immediately “passed out”. I’m doing 60 on the interstate, and I now have an unresponsive infant in my backseat. I called her name a few times. . . nothing. So I reached back (still driving), grabbed her forehead and tried to wake her up. She cracked her eyes slightly so I at least knew she was alive. She didn’t open her eyes until Ms. Johnson laid her down on the cold changing table to change her clothes. Yes, it freaked me out a little. But she’s okay, and day 2 at school was better. She still came home tired and cranky. She’ll get use to those screaming kids eventually.
I have to share a story real quick. Dad and Kat were in town, and I was in the kitchen making blueberry dumplings with Kat. Johnathan came in and said, “Mallory wants you.” Translation: “Mallory has a dirty diaper, and I don’t want to change it.” It didn’t work, so he went to take care of business. A minute later, I heard, “Honey. . . I think I’m going to need help with this one.” Our daughter had exploded again, this time out of the back of her diaper. When I walked in, he said, “I don’t even know where to start.” (I do. . . get a grocery bag) It was one of those where you have to decide if you like the outfit enough to salvage it or just cut it off. It was given to us by a family friend; so thankfully, he was successful in removing it without getting it on the back of her head. Then I held her feet up in the air while he wiped. Teamwork at it’s best.