It is not my intention to drink margaritas every time that every time our son goes to day care, that's just how it worked out on the first day we tried it.
I wish I had spent more time before our son was born considering child care options. I did not engage in any kind of serious search since I did not intend to start working in the time immediately following his birth. I was planning to start making some lists of possibilities in the eighth month, but his early arrival trumped that plan. To be honest, I wasn't sure what I needed or wanted, or if I needed any help at all.
My less-impressive-but-adequate-and-more-affordable choice school had an unexpected opening for two days a week starting this week, so we went for it. At the very least, even though I'm still unsure how I feel about day care in general, and this place specifically, it gives me two days a week in which to have a breather and get things done while my husband is overseas. We thought about a nanny, but so far I haven't been into the idea of someone in the house all the time. We tried a babysitting service but were not impressed with the quality of care for the cost.
So, now we are dabbling in day care, and I am hoping to leverage it to keep working towards that elusive feeling of balance. The powerful feeling of guilt and the strong emotions I felt when we left him there surprised me; I thought that I would be so thrilled for help and so secure in the knowledge that it is good for kids to get to know other people in a setting outside of our home, that I wouldn't struggle to leave him in the capable hands of others. Wrong. I cried at several points during the day and picked him up forty-five minutes earlier than necessary at the end of it.
However, maybe I'm making progress in my quest for balance because I managed to only have one cucumber-jalapeno margarita when we went out to lunch that day, even though it is my favorite drink in Houston and I would have preferred to have at least four.