The End of an Era

The day we moved into our new home was also the last day of daycare for my girls. Here’s our daycare story, from start to finish.

A few weeks before my maternity leave was ending, I realized that I hadn’t found childcare yet. I think it’s because during my pregnancy and maternity leave, we just took things one day at a time. But as time flew by, I found myself in a panic.

As I spoke with a friend about my woes, I didn’t expect her to have any recommendations as her kiddos are taken care of by her mom. But to my surprise, she recommended her sister’s daycare. It was just two blocks away from our home. After speaking with my friend’s sister, I had a good feeling about Mr. and Mrs. C.

We brought the girls to Mr. and Mrs. C’s house to meet them. The girls slept in their infant carriers the whole time. We later joked that they tricked Mr. and Mrs. C into thinking they were good sleepers. Ha. Ha. Ha. But anyways, we liked them…they were like that aunt and uncle you have who are always happy to see you.

The week before we started daycare, we began to see signs of separation anxiety. The girls were five months old. I was so worried, having heard stories of parents leaving their crying, screaming babies at daycare. I told my boss that I might be late for the next few weeks. Or months. Thank goodness at the time, she was supportive.

Then the big day arrived. I planned to stay for at least an hour, if not the whole time! I packed up six bottles of pumped milk, a bin of extra clothes, diapers, wipes and blankets, and prayed really hard for a smooth transition for all of us.

I stayed that first day for only half an hour. Mrs. C kept reassuring me that they would be fine. And they were. They didn’t even notice that I left! My last sight of them was Sarah comfy in Mrs. C’s arms and Sophie happily bouncing in the exersaucer. There was another baby a few months older than my girls, plus my friend’s sister’s 2-year old daughter who was such a sweetheart (whenever one of my girls was sick, she would ask from the staircase, “Where’s (Sophie or Sarah)?” with much concern in her voice).

When I first started bringing my girls to daycare, they were still in footie pajamas on a daily basis (if you’ve been around here long enough, you know how I feel when I see footie pj’s…sniff sniff). They weren’t sitting up yet. They still let me put a hat on them. They had never worn shoes before. Physically, my girls have changed dramatically since our first day there. But their affection for Mr. and Mrs. C never changed.

Three days a week, for two and a half years, I would see their eyes light up when we drove into Mr. and Mrs. C’s driveway, even on mornings when they got up on the wrong side of the bed. They were always happy to see each other. If I ever had any doubts that I was doing them a disservice by putting them in daycare, the smiles on everyone’s faces would immediately put those thoughts to rest. Not to mention, my girls were thriving…because they spent about a fourth of their lives at daycare, I should give credit where credit is due.

At pick-up time, Mrs. C and the girls would greet me at the door. Mrs. C would give me little updates each time…some good, some bad. Sometimes it was apparent that she had a hard time with my girls – I know how they can get when they refuse to sleep. But she always tried to stay positive and never made me feel bad (I did feel bad though). She would also tell me excitedly when they would demonstrate a newly-achieved milestone. I never said “Oh yeah they’ve been doing that all week” because I could tell she was genuinely happy for them. Her favorite comment was that they played together…this would evolve from Sarah bring Sophie a toy to play with, to the two of them holding hands and singing. My girls were always in a good mood when we left each time. When they finally started talking, they were always chatty as we drove away.

On our last day, Lo Gung and I arrived and we expected Mrs. C and the girls to greet us at the door as usual. Instead it was just Mrs. C, who invited us to come up and chat. As we talked, Sophie was in and out of the room, however, Sarah was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Neither of them had any idea that this was their last day, and Sarah was just waiting at the stairs because of the routine she was used to…how come no one was leaving to go home?

As we drove away, Mrs. C stood at the door as she always has, but this time she was waving and waving and waving. The girls waved a little and started their usual chatter, but it was me who wouldn’t stop waving back to her. It was like when you go to another country and meet some amazing relatives and after you have a great time with them you wave and wave and wave as you leave because you know it will be a long time before you ever see them again, if at all. I was so sad to part ways with her. But I was not only saying goodbye to her…I was also bidding farewell to their babyhood.

Then as a double-whammy on my already fragile emotional state, this would also be the day the girls and I would not return to the only home they’ve ever known. Instead of driving just two blocks away, opening the garage door and playing while I fixed dinner, we drove across the bay to our new place. I didn’t talk for the entire drive…I was bouncing from happy to sad from one moment to the next and knew I’d start bawling if I uttered a single word.

During my brief break from blogging last week, I thought about writing this post. As I’ve come to terms with leaving our old home and have begun adjusting to the new home, the memory and the feelings became more and more distant, and I almost didn’t record this event in my blog.

But on his commute home today, Lo Gung sent me this picture from his phone of the girls and me – our first snuggle in our new home. I had meant to ask him to send it to me for Mommy and Me Monday, but kept forgetting.

As I looked at the picture, I saw what outfits they were wearing (their “daycare sweatsuits”, as we called them – me again associating their clothes with life stages). The memories, the feelings, and the emotions once again overtook me, and my fingers started typing.

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