From what I can remember, not much happened this week. We did meet with the person who will be watching Little Man when Teacher Man and I start back to work in August. She’s a wonderful woman who was recommended by a couple of other teachers at school. The meeting/checking out her place went well and I know that she will do a great job of taking care of Little Man.
I just wish that I could take care of him myself. I couldn’t help but cry in the car on the way home. The tears were slowly falling down my face and I was trying not to let Teacher Man see. There’s no fooling him, though. With some gentle prodding, all of my emotions came flooding out.
It kills me to think that there will be things that he does that I won’t be there to witness. What if his first steps happen when I’m not there? What if he likes her more than he likes me? What if he screams the whole time and I won’t be there to comfort him? I want to be there for all of those moments; I don’t want to miss any point in his life. Sure, there will be times when he’s in school or off to college or an adult where I don’t get to see things firsthand. But, he’s so cute and small and squishy and defenseless. How am I supposed to just turn him over to someone else? She won’t love him and watch him and teach him in the same way I can. Why am I turning over my child to someone else so that I can teach other people’s children?
Obviously, this isn’t something that I just thought about the one time. This is an issue that bites me day after day. I get anxious even thinking about August and leaving him. I cry almost every night after putting him to bed. How am I supposed to juggling all of the things that go along with teaching and still be able to spend time with him and teach him and love him the way that I should?
I wish more than (almost) anything else, that I would be able to stay home with him. Nothing would make me happier. But, bills must be paid and health insurance must be had. Unless Teacher Man gets a better-paying job, I find a way to work from home, or we win the lottery, I’ll be working. Granted, I will be only part-time next year, but, let’s be honest, part-time for a teacher isn’t really part-time.
So, I’ll be spending the rest of the summer trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I’ll have to leave him. Every day. And try and find some way for it not to rip me in half.