@@@@@ >-----------------------------------------< @@@@@@@ | date: Tue 01 Sep 2026 08:56:42 PM PDT | @@@@@@@@@ | subj: day three of daycare | @@@@@@@@@ | auth: bbsing | @@@@@@@ | doc#: 0090 ------------------------ | @@@@@ >-----------------------------------------< Early rise, minus one hour of sleep compared to pre-daycare. I rush in every way trying to be as efficient as possible. I skip the kettle my coffee, to just heat up the kids oat meal. I cut a slice of bread for their toast, stir the oats and hot water, and watch the clock. Since I woke up got dressed its now fifteen minutes after the hour, oats are done, time to get the kids up, change diapers, and put them in chairs for breakfast. The last two times they didn't want to eat much. Today they were easier to wake up, and they both seemed more cheerful. I feed them the oatmeal, and a slice of a slice of toast. Only twenty minutes to eat, and then go. I put their socks and shoes on while they are in their highchair. As I learn how to get my little people ready so I can be on time for work. Tried to drop the kids off in a happy way, but as soon as I put them down they started to cry. Poor babes, what is so upsetting? They can't tell me. I scoop them both up and move them to the center of the play area next to some toys. I put them down, and the crying starts again. I start playing with the toys and get them to engage with the neat toy animals that have magnetic parts to put them together like puzzle pieces. Another child, about three years old wants my attention, she keeps putting different toys in my face. My babes are a bit scared by this energetic little girl. My work at playing calms them for a moment until I stand up. My babes know I'm going to leave them. I tell them, "I'll be back later to pick you up. Have fun." Then I walk out. ---------------------- Third day of daycare. Not as bad as the first and second day but not what I really hoped for. Each day I drop my children off, I think to myself "Just until the other daycare opens. We'll all have to get through this." The bleach smell still in my nasal passages from the inside of the daycare, as I drive to work, while on a daily scrum meeting, waiting for others to join. Am I one of those parents that cause suffering to the teacher/care provider, probably, but if I was the care provider I would have the cents to open a few windows each day and let real air come in for us humans. ---------------------- While at home the house seems so empty. No more sounds of my children crying, running, laughing, throwing toys on the ground, banging on the windows, just the silence, and the clacks of pecking at my keyboard on my desk. I rush from my work station to the restroom and glance in the mirror. I tell myself. I can get through this, noticing my hair needs cutting, and I haven't taken a moment to shower for a few days now. I think about how long I've been at the keyboard itself, over twenty years, and recognize my body getting older, my muscles getting smaller in spite of my efforts to try to keep them. I finish in the restroom then drop to pay my toll to exit, twenty push-ups, rush back to my workstation to forget about it all lost in my work, where I'm rushed from task to task. ---------------------- The day flew by too fast, not enough hours to get it all done, but its time to go pick up the kids. Last time we picked them up they were two fuss-a-trons, maybe due to their hunger so this time I brought a couple of waffles for them. My wife shows up just in time to join me to pick up the kids. We drive to daycare. She tells me about her day, not the best one she's had. I commiserate with her about the duplicative tasks I have to deal with I find no value in. All this shorts the ride. At the daycare we open the doors to collect our babes. The smell of bleach wafts over me. I quickly take care of business, while our babes immediately notice mom, they run over to her, and she kneels down to give them hugs. They are so happy to see her. Our son and daughter both have a huge smile. My son sees me and then gestures to the office. I ask him "what is it?" Maybe he's telling me something I need to know. I see the cleaning bottles on top of the desk in the office, but those don't seem to be what he is gesturing at. He raises his arms at me, and fusses so I can pick him up. I pick him up and continue signing out the babes. I verify all their stuff in their packs, then mom, the babes, and myself exit. A sippy cup in our babes hands they guzzle their water, as we load them into the truck. I put a waffle in my son's hand, and it mesmerizes him for a moment, then he takes a bite. I hand a waffle for mom, to give to our daughter. Hope in, lets go home! ------------------------ All this daycare shorts our time with babes at night. They are sleeping less during the day and are exhausted by the time they get home. We're still finding our rhythm for daycare. doc 0090 EOF