Maternity leave in Canada, although long, just isn't long enough and that meant that when Lea was 13 months old she had to start Daycare (which I will get into in another post). My wife, beleaguered with maternal guilt, returned to her place in the workforce as we knew she would have to.
Now that she’s back at work, she’s up and feeding the baby at 6am, and by 7:15 she’s gone, leaving this under caffeinated shadow of a man to care for a scrappy toddler.
And so begins the Daily Morning Routine to get her to daycare by 8:30.
The DMR consists of waking her little lazy butt up for the second time, because not unlike her father she’s got an incredible talent for falling back asleep and staying that way prior to 11 am (if only this skill could be carried over to naps and bedtime).
Once she’s awake; again, I need to change her morning truck stop diaper without getting any of it on her, the house or myself, feed her breakfast, clean the breakfast out of her hair, get her dressed, prep her bottles for daycare and the next step should be to leave.
I normally opt to play with her a bit because 8 am is her golden hour, it’s when she’s the most playful and affectionate, so we goof around for like 10-15 minutes, and then we’re off.
She’s just starting to walk so she insists that I let her walk next to me while holding her hand down our long Hallway to the elevators, where she insists on passing the key card in front of the sensor and pressing the button to go to the parking garage. OK, so half the time we end up on the wrong floor and it takes us 8 minutes to talk 100m but we get there.
Once in the sub-basement, we pause at the full-length mirrors so that Lea can bid Mirror Lea goodbye for the day, numerous times.
And thus, with her final farewell to her doppelganger, concludes the DMR, for today. Until tomorrow that is.