Dear Abby, or Diary, or whoever you are,

I go to bed with a heavy heart AGAIN. And Sean is at a work dinner, so you blog are my only hope.

I'm pretty sure that by now, it's clear that I hate to leave my kids each day. I'm sure all my friends (including you blog) are tired of hearing about it. So, I'll spare you the recap on that on-going saga. But I will say this; I know that staying at home and working both have their ups and downs. And I'm sure if I did stay home I'd be grasping for some semblance of adult interaction. I know that both jobs are hard hard hard.

I guess sometimes I wish that I had a choice. For me the only choice was 'where'. For this I blame Linfield College. The school that both Sean and I paid thousands and thousands of dollars to well, meet each other. This is also the institution that sucks a good chunk of change out of our bank account each month. I hold tight to that concept, that the loans we pay each month are some sort of dowry to each other. Right? RIGHT?

The worst part for me has always been, those first few weeks of taking your baby to someone else to care for. I've done it twice and there is no easy button for that task. You hunt hunt hunt for the perfect place, although in your heart no place is perfect unless it's with you. You view centers, home daycare's and you knit pick them to death. You hope the other kids are well behaved and don't teach your kids bad manners. You hope their teacher, nanny, or daycare provider treats them as though they were their own.

You mostly just hope.

That your making the right decision.

Then you rip the band aid off and you drive away from your baby. And you cry the whole way to work. And when you pick them up with smiles on their faces...you know you've done good.

I digress. Three years ago, I made a choice. I made a choice to move Alex from her first daycare and I found Kathleena. For three years our kids have been cared for to my very high standards. They come home all learned and smart. They are active, and artsy and have fun! They do music and dance, and all the things I can't teach them during the day, Kathleena does. She probably has taught them more than I ever could. And for this I am forever grateful.

Unfortunately, the logistics of our life are changing. And for us, logistics have always been our biggest hurdle. How do we get Sean to Salem, myself to Beaverton, the kids to school and all back again? How do we incorporate classes, swim lessons and still leave time for QT at night? We've managed. I've gotten up and driven to work each morning before the roosters crow, and we manage to get Sean home just as dinner is on the table. It's working. But next year, Alex is starting school and everything is changing and although I haven't worked out the details yet, what I do know is our time with Kathleena is ending. She's out of our district and in the Fall, we'll be moving Alex and now trying to figure out how to logistically get her to her place and Ian to his and us to ours. I'm tired just thinking about it.

I'm digressing again. Basically, I've decided to keep the kids home this summer. And as my friend always says, 'remove the daily task of ripping my kids from their sheets' each morning. My dear Sis is thrilled to spend some quality time with them in between long weekends, a few vacations, and some family visits. And I'm excited for them and the summer we have planned but heartbroken about Kathleena.

I told her today as I picked up the kids and left with such a terrible heartache inside. I felt like giving good notice was the best possible thing I could do and instead it just feels icky. She has absolutely been amazing to us and our kids. She has worked with our long days, she's accepted my kids on Mondays when I've had to work, and most recently Fridays. They love her, we love her.

And Kathleena, I hope if your reading this you know that. And I hope you know that in the end, it's logistics.

I will be forever grateful for the love, and the amazing spirit you've given to our kids. I've picked up my kids with smiles on their faces every every every day, and there is no thank you big enough for that.