This morning on my drive to daycare (at 7 am, which is way too early for a freak out), I got hit with a serious case of mom guilt. It came out of nowhere but all of a sudden it was there, all consuming to the point where I could feel tears begin to prick my eyes. Nothing was said or done to bring it on, but it hit me hard.
The women at daycare are the ones teaching my son all of the things that I should be teaching him.
He can count, he can say his ABC's, he knows shapes and is beginning to know colors, he knows sign language. I didn't teach him any of these things. I'm not the one that gets to sit with him all day and say to him "this is a circle, this is a square". I'm not the one that gets to sing the Wheels on the Bus over and over until the starts to sing it on his own. I'm not the one that gets to put him on the potty four times a day every day so that he begins to get comfortable enough to become potty trained. I'm not the one that gets to read to him and introduce him to new stories.
Yes, I do all of these things with him at home on weekends or after work, but for 40+ hours a week, I'm not the one that gets to do this with him. I can't take credit for the things that he's learned because I'm not the one who taught him. And that thought is devastating to me. I know that as he enters school, I won't be the one teaching him math and history (luckily for Henry), but I expected that. I knew that would happen. Somehow I didn't realize the same thing would happen at daycare. I didn't realize that he would learn all of the basic life knowledge and I wouldn't have much to do with it.