I went to work today for the first time in a week. It wasn't because I have recovered already; it was more because I was tired of being sick. I was far from effective at work, unable to read a page of text without collapsing and totally losing it when the effects of the cold pills wore off. But still I survived, proving once again that it doesn't take much to get through an office job.
To make this a truly special day, Jo had joined me in the morning train ride with Dylan. Jo went to examine a childcare place in the city, and the bottom line of it is that she liked it and we now have provisions for two days per week there as of the new year. The childcare place is near my place of work, so we'll both take Dylan with us on the train and I will take him there in the morning and retrieve him in the evening. It works well for us because my working day is 7.5 hours while Jo's is 8, so if we want to ride the same trains without me working extra time (the horror!) then handling Dylan's childcare woes is one effective balancing techniques.
Obviously, things can't just be so nice and easy. I must have something to complain about or worry of in order for this bit of news to make it to my blog, so here we go.
This morning's morning ritual was sort of a dress rehearsal for the real thing. We got up at 6:00 with the aim of leaving at 7:00 to catch the train. I did my usual morning routine on auto pilot, Jo took care of Dylan with hardly any help from me, and we ended up missing our train by two minutes. So there we have lesson number 1: I need to get up even earlier if I am to help Jo and if we are to be ready on time.
The real issue here is Dylan's breakfast. With all his messing around, it takes him about half an hour to go through his bottle, and if we're taking him to the city we can't just wait till he gets to childcare and leave them to feed him; at least not yet (experienced parents are welcomed to say when we can expect Dylan to be able to wait an hour plus after waking up and until they he gets his breakfast; in general, Dylan stays awake for an hour and a half between each feed, which doesn't leave much room for delayed breakfasts even if his stomach could cope with the delay to begin with (and at the moment it won't)).
However, getting up even earlier in order to have enough time to give Dylan his breakfast doesn't solve our problems either, because we won't be waking Dylan up at 5:30 anyway. And we don't want to take later trains, because they become too crowded.
And there you have it in a nutshell: the woes of taking Dylan with us to work.
Obviously, woes don't end there. It's summer now and all is fine and dandy, but how will we cope when it's soaking wet and cold? That could supply us with a lifetime of memories. And needless to say, the Connex trains don't make life easy on us: just this morning we stood at the very end of the platform under the assumption that the last carriage would have disabled facilities that would fit our pram. It turned out not to be the case, and we found ourselves on a car where the pram hardly fit. Other carriages had disabled facilities, but in the brief few seconds the train stops at the station you can't afford to be too picky (definitely not with a pram in hand). Life must be really charming to the truly disabled!
Well, at least we won't be late picking Dylan up in the evenings because of Connex to find ourselves fined at a rate of $1 per minute.