I dream of day care...

I have been calling and scheduling interviews this week with pediatricians and day cares.  The two things I learned are that most of the staff in pediatrician offices are assholes and day care is expensive.  The nice thing about working for The Man is that I have super awesome benefits, like the benefit of paying for daycare pre-tax.  That’s nice.  Because shit is EXPENSIVE.  Average around here is $175/week for full time care.  I found one that was $75 a week, but the woman told me they only take one infant at a time and tend to have about 20-25 kids with two staff members.  Um… no thank you?  I also found a Montessori school that does infant care for $550/month full-time and $450 part-time.  Most of the rates at these places drop when the baby turns two.  If only I was still in Latin America.  I could find a nice ninera for waaaaaayyyy cheaper.  Or an amazing one for the same price. 

I think all these conversations with day cares are what led to the weird dream I had on Wednesday night.  In my dream, I had gone to check out a day care which wasn’t particularly special or nice.  It was in a woman’s home and she told me the cost was $1000/month.  Even dream me thought that was ridiculous.  When questioned about her exorbitant rates, the woman responded, “We’re the whitest day care in town.”  Dream me said, “Excuse me, did you say whitest?”  And the woman replied, “Yes.  We don’t allow colored babies in here.”  WTF?  Colored babies?  I think that is the dream that woke me up on Thursday morning.  So, yeah.  I’m dreaming about expensive, racist day cares.

Next week I am going to check out the day cares I called this week to see if I like them.  I’m hoping the Montessori school is super awesome.  Or that my dad will decide that, since he is now retired, the only thing that could possibly bring him joy is providing childcare for his grandson.  For free… or for really cheap.   

Now all I can think about is my step-sister’s racist dog from my childhood.  His name was Max and he barked at black people. 

I have interviewed two pediatricians so far and I have four more slated for this month.  The first two were recommended by coworkers, and I hated both of them (the pediatricians, not the coworkers).  I would like to find a pediatrician or family doctor that I love as much as I love my midwife.  So, I have started selecting pediatricians to interview based upon random things.  I am interviewing a guy on Monday based upon his impressive moustache and proximity to my house.  On Wednesday I am interviewing one because he went to medical school at UW in Seattle and he has only been practicing for about 3 years.  I’m hoping that his relatively newness to the field means that he is not a pretentious, jaded douche bag.  I guess I’ll know by next week!

Also this month are a guy that the receptionist in my chiropractor’s office says is amazing and a family doctor who is 15 miles from my house, but allegedly really good.  So, we’ll see.  I’m hoping to have shit figured out by August 1^st.

In other news, I was doing some internet research on things I should know about having a baby boy.  The big one seems to be to make sure his junk is pointed down when you put on his diaper, otherwise everything will get peed on except his diaper.  And babies get erections.  I did not know that and am glad I have been warned in advance.  And when they get older they pee everywhere.  One of my coworkers told me about her son, 4 or 5 years old at the time, standing at the top of the stairs, peeing.  He was trying to see if he could make it to the bottom of the stairwell.  I guess I can’t really blame him.  I would probably do the same thing, provided the opportunity and necessary equipment.

That is all.  Happy belated birthday, USA, and happy weekend to all (three) of you!