Q got into day care.
If you’re not a Sydney parent, you’ll be wondering why this statement is significant.
Seriously people, it’s far more than just significant.
This is like saying you beat Ian Thorpe. Or got upgraded to first class on a long haul flight with Qantas. Or had a helpful customer service operator.
It represents one of the major parenting victories. A success story to be shared around the dinner table, passed along over the back fence when you’re watering the garden, to be retold for generations to come.
How the Mighty Q found herself in day care with one email and a deleted application form.
Let me start at the beginning…
It became evident some months ago (like the day she turned up) that Q was the kind of kid who would benefit from a variety of inputs owing to her inexhaustible nature and quest for adventure.
More recently I finally acknowledged that despite my best efforts of parks, walks, swims, books, adventures, people and excursions, I was still not giving her quite what she needed or desired. (Hence the full throttle, full body, full volume tantrums).
Most recently, I was forced to concede that opening a restaurant, moving house, Q’s developing language and social interaction and opening a restaurant may in fact mean I need to find some assistance in the raising of the divine, unstoppable Miss Q.
I cannot be everything to my girl. I have always believed it takes a village to raise a child.
It’s time to call on the villagers.
And so, on the recommendation of a friend, I shot off an email to a day care, got an acceptance response, met with the owner for well over an hour, where not once did she make us feel possessive, neurotic, ridiculous or obsessive, and Q is due to start just after easter.
I know, I know, I’ve just found the holy grail for inner city parents – child care the days I wanted at a place I like, who doesn’t care if I only put Q in for a few hours until I’m brave enough to leave her for longer.
Complete, utter, inner-city victory.
The funny thing is, I’m not that kind of girl. I never win raffles, I’m never in the right place at the right time, I’m the tortoise. Slow and steady, and even then I usually don’t win the race.
This is something weird. Some odd cosmic collision of need and opportunity.
Thank you world, and thank you villagers.
My little girl is on her way…