Today we marked off a major milestone in Harrison’s little life – “unofficial” commencement of Daycare. OK, so yes, perhaps it was just Orientation taking place and yes, it consumed only one hour of aforementioned little life – as opposed to the 25 a week it soon will feed off – but to us, it felt like a landmark occasion.
Getting to this point however has taken some groundwork. Me being, well, me, put my child on their waiting list when the young one was but a bump on my body. Perhaps the 50 badgering calls over the last 4 months helped our cause too. Pays off though, being so anally organised, and annoying, as we got him a place in perfect time for me to return to the (paid) working world. You see, garnering a childcare place at your choice of Centre, when you live in Sydney, is about as likely as winning the recent Oz Lotto jackpot. But win we did and we are extremely happy with the choice.
But oh, the paperwork…! Who knew there was so much detailed information to be ascertained??? Certainly not me, who rocked up casually earlier in the week to fill in a form or two, only to be greeted with an application “novel” akin to applying for college or to live permanently in a foreign country! But one supposes when it comes to the most precious asset you have, one should be grateful rather than grizzle about the in depth knowledge they ask to be provided before accepting your child into their centre.
So, its done and dusted, this Orientation gig and we the parents, while slightly overwhelmed by some aspects feel largely secure in the knowledge our boy will continue to blossom in this new environment. The whole hour we were there Harrison barely gave us a backwards glance, quite content to amuse himself with the exciting array of new toys on offer, and to suss out the other kiddies at play.
Whether or not he was trying to exert an early presence, we are not exactly sure. All I can say definitively is that he picked the youngest, and also least mobile child and proceeded to dive for it’s dummy and when not successful at removing it, gave the poor little guy a few touch up whacks on the face for good measure. Arrrggghhh… Cue mortified embarrassment from Mum and lightning speed discipline and distraction techniques from Dad, and we decided to go before our “visa” was revoked!