Chloë's last day at daycare was yesterday. I delivered cookies and a card (with picture and gift card) in the morning, and Eric watched Miss Mindy beg for "one more hug," before he took her away in the evening. "I'm sorry for Mindy," Eric said. "And I hope Chloë will be okay." Daddy Daycare opens on Monday.
Today, we went to the mall for haircuts and books. Chloë was irritable and eventually I realized this was probably because she was hungry, so we sat down on a cushioned chair near the food court to nurse while Eric paid for books.
A boy, maybe twelve years old or so, wandered by and peered at us. "How old's your baby?" he asked.
"Ten months," I said.
"What's it doing?" he said.
"Nursing."
"What's that?"
"Feeding," I said.
He moved a little closer. "Feeding from what? There's no bottle."
"Feeding from me." A couple of his friends had joined him and were looking, too, and Chloë chose that time to let go of the R.I.N.D.S. and stare at them. I pulled down my shirt and said "Could you--?", waving my hand to indicate they should go.
They moved off, and I resettled Chloë on the R.I.N.D.S. I'm not sure whether the boy genuinely didn't know what was going on, or was just looking for a chance to ogle and/or get me to say "breast." I've had to explain what I was doing before to the kids at daycare, but they're three. Either way, he's probably lucky Eric wasn't there.
Showing posts with label daycare. Show all posts
Showing posts with label daycare. Show all posts
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Bringing the R.I.N.D.S. backup system online
Chloe has graduated Rice Academy and moved on to Oat High. Last weekend she suddenly seemed to understand how to eat; she swallowed the food, then gulped it greedily and reached for the spoon. We gave her another couple of days with rice cereal, and now she's on oatmeal. We figure once she's past the oatmeal gauntlet, it's time to start vegetables and fruits.
This is good, because I went to daycare at lunch today (as I usually do) and Miss Mindy told me that Chloe had already had two bottles. "I’m really sorry," she said. "But she was screaming and screaming. And after her first one she was already screaming, like she hadn't had enough. She cried herself to sleep."
"She's a growing girl. Maybe four ounces isn't enough," said Miss Linda, who was nearby.
"She's at four and a half," I replied, because it's annoyed me that they always write "4 oz" on the daily sheet, even when they tell me she drained her bottle, or that she left an ounce.
"Have you considered cereal?" she suggested. "Just a spoonful twice a day?"
"We're already doing that," I said, then realized she meant in the bottles. We've been told not to do this, and now that she's working on cereal by the spoonful it doesn't seem to make a lot of sense. Also I don't know why adding cereal would be better than just adding more milk. Also I resent the implication that we've been starving her for weeks. She's been at daycare having these same bottles for the past few weeks and done just fine with them. And yes, she's a growing girl (16 pounds 4 ounces and 25 inches as of Monday's checkup), so eventually she'd outgrow this size, but we don't feed her bottles at home so how would we know today was the day to move her up?
(Actually, I guess I can excuse that. They're not used to having a breastfed baby; their other two get formula, and one gets a bottle as thick with cereal as they can make it per his mother's request. It probably doesn't occur to them that I wouldn't know how big a bottle she needs day by day.)
So she'll start getting five ounces, and starting next week we should be able to send along some jars of baby food in case the bottles aren't enough. Getting her on solids was already making me excited, and now I'm doubly pleased. Moving up to five ounces means the R.I.N.D.S. need to go back into training--I've been keeping up with her daily daycare feedings by pumping, but just barely, and we've been using the occasional bottle from the frozen stash. I had stopped pumping after every feeding at home, which has been lovely, but it looks like the break is over until production has increased. (The beatings shall continue until morale improves.) So having solids as a second food supply will be a good thing.
This is good, because I went to daycare at lunch today (as I usually do) and Miss Mindy told me that Chloe had already had two bottles. "I’m really sorry," she said. "But she was screaming and screaming. And after her first one she was already screaming, like she hadn't had enough. She cried herself to sleep."
"She's a growing girl. Maybe four ounces isn't enough," said Miss Linda, who was nearby.
"She's at four and a half," I replied, because it's annoyed me that they always write "4 oz" on the daily sheet, even when they tell me she drained her bottle, or that she left an ounce.
"Have you considered cereal?" she suggested. "Just a spoonful twice a day?"
"We're already doing that," I said, then realized she meant in the bottles. We've been told not to do this, and now that she's working on cereal by the spoonful it doesn't seem to make a lot of sense. Also I don't know why adding cereal would be better than just adding more milk. Also I resent the implication that we've been starving her for weeks. She's been at daycare having these same bottles for the past few weeks and done just fine with them. And yes, she's a growing girl (16 pounds 4 ounces and 25 inches as of Monday's checkup), so eventually she'd outgrow this size, but we don't feed her bottles at home so how would we know today was the day to move her up?
(Actually, I guess I can excuse that. They're not used to having a breastfed baby; their other two get formula, and one gets a bottle as thick with cereal as they can make it per his mother's request. It probably doesn't occur to them that I wouldn't know how big a bottle she needs day by day.)
So she'll start getting five ounces, and starting next week we should be able to send along some jars of baby food in case the bottles aren't enough. Getting her on solids was already making me excited, and now I'm doubly pleased. Moving up to five ounces means the R.I.N.D.S. need to go back into training--I've been keeping up with her daily daycare feedings by pumping, but just barely, and we've been using the occasional bottle from the frozen stash. I had stopped pumping after every feeding at home, which has been lovely, but it looks like the break is over until production has increased. (The beatings shall continue until morale improves.) So having solids as a second food supply will be a good thing.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
The nose knows
After work yesterday I held my love close, enjoying the contact after a long day of separation. I inhaled--and recoiled. "You smell like...another woman!" I accused.
She cooed.
There are apparently studies that show that a baby can identify her mother's breastpad and will ignore other women's, and that women can identify their babies by smell alone. I wasn't so sure I believed that, since humans hardly ever use their sense of smell compared to other mammals, but now I think I do. Yesterday was Chloë's first day at daycare proper, and when I picked her up after work she did, in fact, smell like another woman. Actually, she must have smelled like at least three of them, since different teachers were there when I dropped her off, nursed her at lunch, and picked her up; and the smell might have been partly the place itself--and it was mixed in with the milk that collects in her neck when she gets bottles. But it all added up to Someone Else Has Been Handling My Baby, and I didn't like it at all. She got a bath last night. It was time for it, but I might have insisted on it anyway, just so she'd smell right again. We'll see whether I can handle the residual scent tonight, or whether her two- or three-times-weekly bath will become a nightly ritual.
She cooed.
There are apparently studies that show that a baby can identify her mother's breastpad and will ignore other women's, and that women can identify their babies by smell alone. I wasn't so sure I believed that, since humans hardly ever use their sense of smell compared to other mammals, but now I think I do. Yesterday was Chloë's first day at daycare proper, and when I picked her up after work she did, in fact, smell like another woman. Actually, she must have smelled like at least three of them, since different teachers were there when I dropped her off, nursed her at lunch, and picked her up; and the smell might have been partly the place itself--and it was mixed in with the milk that collects in her neck when she gets bottles. But it all added up to Someone Else Has Been Handling My Baby, and I didn't like it at all. She got a bath last night. It was time for it, but I might have insisted on it anyway, just so she'd smell right again. We'll see whether I can handle the residual scent tonight, or whether her two- or three-times-weekly bath will become a nightly ritual.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Daycare
We went to our chosen daycare today, Chloë and I, to get the paperwork going since I go back to work next week. The teachers who had been there when we toured before were there. "She's grown so big!" one of them said. "She's like doubled in size!" Another offered to take her to the infant room while the administrator and I talked, and when I declined admitted she just wanted to hold the baby--"I love girl babies!" she said--so I let her take Chloë.
This daycare deals with a lot of Child and Family Services-assisted families; the administrator, Linda, seemed a little surprised to hear we would be "private pay." She asked how many hours we were looking for, and I told her around thirty-two, eight hours a day for four days a week. "The rate for Lucas County is $186.70," she said, showing me a sheet. (It was less for Wood Country. She didn't know why.) "But the best I could do for you is $130. I try to work with our private pay folks." I felt a little guilty about taking that price, since we could afford the other one; but I accepted, of course. I hadn't asked for a discount.
We've got to get a signature from the pediatrician and fill out a ton of paperwork, and get a cash or money order for the first week and the application fee (apparently they had a lot of trouble with bad checks and now don't take them), but we're looking in good shape to be ready for me to go back to work. And I pulled out the appropriate-sized pants from under the bed, so I'll even be dressed for the part. I have a box of Kleenex, too, which people are telling me I'll need. We'll see how it goes next week.
This daycare deals with a lot of Child and Family Services-assisted families; the administrator, Linda, seemed a little surprised to hear we would be "private pay." She asked how many hours we were looking for, and I told her around thirty-two, eight hours a day for four days a week. "The rate for Lucas County is $186.70," she said, showing me a sheet. (It was less for Wood Country. She didn't know why.) "But the best I could do for you is $130. I try to work with our private pay folks." I felt a little guilty about taking that price, since we could afford the other one; but I accepted, of course. I hadn't asked for a discount.
We've got to get a signature from the pediatrician and fill out a ton of paperwork, and get a cash or money order for the first week and the application fee (apparently they had a lot of trouble with bad checks and now don't take them), but we're looking in good shape to be ready for me to go back to work. And I pulled out the appropriate-sized pants from under the bed, so I'll even be dressed for the part. I have a box of Kleenex, too, which people are telling me I'll need. We'll see how it goes next week.
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