Sunday, July 10, 2005

Off the Grid There's a daycare across the street from the building where I work.  It's a posh place, well over $1000 a month.  They offer the works - "culturally aware" education, music training, field trips.  It's a fine choice for daycare, and parents are probably overjoyed if they can afford to send their kids there. One day, I looked out the window to see a mother dropping off her little 'un for daycare.  His face was red from screaming.  His arms were wrapped around her leg, and she could only walk by flinging her baby-laden leg ahead of her, then stepping, then flinging again.  Lurch, step, lurch, step.  He looked like he was going to the gas chamber.  I'm sure that somehow, with some effort, she was able to pry his little hands off her calf, free herself from his grasp, and with tears in her own eyes, leave him in the hands of the daycare staff.  And then, she got back in the car, turned on the news, and drove to work.  I don't want that to be our life with Oliver. I can't do it.  I can't face the idea of him crying for thirty minutes while underpaid workers try to make the time to take care of him.  I can't deal with the images of Barney playing on an eye-level tv while his diaper is changed.  Of him just being another unit in a crib, another account, another customer.  Of strangers raising our baby. I know, it happens all the time.  I know that.  And when it was an abstract idea, I was willing to accept it.  I'd already decided to cut to four days a week, so I can spend one day a week with him. One day a week.  We'd have three uninterrupted days total with him, counting the weekends, which will basically be emotional makeup time for the week spent in someone else's arms, sleeping in some other crib, eating someone else's idea of healthy snacks.  One of us would drop him off (screaming) in the morning, and go to work feeling like a murderer.  One of us would pick him up (crying) from daycare, feeling like a prison guard.  I can't do it. Then there's the financial side.  I don't make much - I take home around $1000 every two weeks.  Daycare is going to eat up one of those paychecks.  Half of my time will be working for the money to pay someone else to - let's just be honest - to raise our child. It's not worth it. I'm putting together a list.  The list is of jobs that I can do from home.  Or jobs that I can do on the weekends.  I'm going off the grid.  I'm dropping out of the rat race.  My next job is going to be daddy. I will write reports or press releases on my home computer while he naps, or while he's with Mrs. B in the evening.  I will bring in enough money to make up the difference between what I'd be making, and what we'd be paying in daycare costs.  If that doesn't work, I'll do whatever it takes to make sure we can do this.  I'll do phone canvassing again.  I'll deliver newspapers again.  Whatever I need to do.  I can't stand another week going into work, leaving my baby at home.  I can't.  This is big, folks.  I need feedback.  If you've done the stay-at-home route, whether you're a mom or dad, I need advice.  I do not need recommendations for home businesses, Tupperware sales, passion parties, or anything that involves a website.  I know what I'll do for money. I need encouragement.  Please tell me that I'm not crazy, and that it's worked for other people before.  I'm going to do this.  I just want someone to tell me that I can make it work.  I promise to keep you all appraised on how this experiment goes.  This little blog will be your window on my adventures in househusbandry, or whatever the hell the term is.  By the way, Mrs. B is as determined as I am not to lock him into daycare.  Still, this is nearly the most frightening thing we've done together (second only to actually having the little critter.)  But it's the right thing.  Oliver needs me more than the dysfunctional office I currently work in.  I've started feeling more impatient and frustrated at work, and I think it was my way of really confronting this desire to do something different.  Doing what I really want to do.  I know this is the right thing to do.  Now I've got to figure out how to make it work.  9:54:39 PM     Speak up!  []