Its such a nice feeling when I receive pictures of Max at daycare participating in the activities, baby yoga, hanging with the boys (with the exception of 2 girls, his class is all boys, ie, the Man Cave or Frat House).  Its a nice validation to know that he is happy while there. 

Its also nice to know that the daycare does take development very seriously.  I am lucky that they think to share pictures of Max achieving milestones like rolling over, sitting up, sitting at the lunch table with everyone, etc.

Though when I receive calls from them saying that Max is sick or hasnt been himself, I start to worry and feel guilty that I am not there to soothe him.  I start to think if I was a stay-at-home mom, he wouldnt have this.  Thankfully in the three months that Max has been attending daycare, this has only happened twice, one being yesterday. 

We spent another Friday night at the immediate care because when I called the doctor with Max's symptoms, he wanted a chest xray.  Upon initial exam of Max, the doctor noticed he was short of breath so she ordered a breathing treatment.  Then the chest xray, then some medicine.  Then another breathing treatment. 

Max was a trooper, not a single complaint.  I, on the other hand, cried the entire time. 

When the entire Frat House has runny noses, I should expect this.  Except I didnt expect all the treatments.  And the three medicines and breathing treatment contraption I was sent home with.  The boy is only 5 1/2 months old!  I started to think, 'What kind of mother am I?' and 'What mother in her right mind would subject her child to that (that = Frat House)?'

I suspect this too shall pass, his illness.  Not so sure about the guilt.