Happy Baby

There's a yoga position by this name. You roll on your back and grab your feet, knees bent and hips open, like a roly-poly baby. E and J were both Happy Babies when they rolled out of his daycare for the last time. While they didn't actually roll out of the house -- they'd likely have rolled in dog poo if they had -- their hearts were rolling and their happiness was, like that of the rolling baby, unlimited. They were free!

E spent far too many unhappy months in the "care" (no word could be more unfitting in this context) of a woman who should not be providing childcare. The Js struggled with this. It is not an easy thing to find childcare in Victoria. Ask any pregnant mother who already has her baby's name, even before she knows the baby's name, on a waitlist. It's an ugly scene. But E was suffering and it couldn't go on. Between an incredible Aunt and Granny and the serendipitous reconnection with a young Nanny (a former student of J's) they made a new plan and bid their less than fond farewells to the bad daycare lady.

The difference has been incredible. In two little days, E has transformed into a happy baby and so has his mom. When J comes home or picks E up, he's calm and clean and smiling (or more likely eating). He's played. He's been outside. He's been cared for.

The Js have learned not to settle when it comes to the well-being of their boy.
This is a big lesson, one they probably thought they already knew.