• Between costs and wait times, day care didn’t work for us, so I’m a stay-at-home mom.
• I’m struggling to juggle everything and trying not to resent my partner.
• I’m also trying not to rush this time with my daughter because it will go fast.

“$350,” I exaggeratedly mouthed to my partner.

We were sitting in on a virtual tour of a day care. It was the first day care that had been willing to talk to us at all. Most were full with no waiting list. This one was full, with a waiting list of nine months for part-time care and 18 months for full-time. In my desperation, I signed up for the tour, knowing that the timeframe didn’t work for us.

At this point, my daughter was three months old. I had promised my clients she would be in day care by six months so that they could be my priority in the daytime. It was too big of a promise.

As I was mentally calculating whether all of this would work, the tour guide told us it was $350 to get on the day care’s waiting list.

Someone else on the tour unmuted to say: “And that will go toward your other fees?”

The tour guide put on her best empathetic smile. “No. It’s just the cost of getting on the waiting list. We’ve had a lot of problems with people disappearing on us, so this just tells us you’re serious.”

I pretended to listen to the rest of the virtual tour, knowing that day care wouldn’t work for us. Between costs and waitlists, why not just keep her home and hope that preschool wouldn’t be this insane?

Two years later, I still don’t know if I made the right decision to become a stay-at-home mom.

I’ve started implementing a set schedule

Keeping my daughter at home with me was our only choice. I work for myself at home. To some degree, I set my schedule, and I could care for my daughter as needed. My partner has to go into an office with heavy machinery — not the best environment for a newborn.

But it was impossible when I first started to balance my daughter’s needs with my work. Everything seemed to change at a moment’s notice, and I never knew when I could work. I couldn’t keep going like that without something breaking.

I realized we had to get on a set schedule to save my sanity, so I instituted one when she was about eight weeks old.

I found that we both flourished. My daughter had a rhythm to her day that she responded to, and I knew the times I could get work done. Are these times always reliable? No, but having the basic plan has made fitting everything in a little easier.

I put one-on-one time with my daughter into the calendar. My clients know that they can contact me in an emergency during those times, but otherwise, it’s treated like any client meeting: My daughter has my undivided attention.

I’m struggling through this difficult situation

My partner can leave the house whenever he wants. When I leave, I have to figure out what to do with our daughter. She’s been at client meetings and work events because I have no one else to watch her, which is not ideal for getting more work with clients.

I’m also hitting limits. I simply can’t do as much work as I used to before my daughter was born, which means I’m not taking on as many jobs. I’ve had to pass on several opportunities that would’ve been interesting simply because I don’t have the time.

Then there are the days my daughter has a 102-degree temperature and needs me all day. Our schedule goes out the window. Work has to be on hold until her naptime. This would happen if she were in day care as well, but it just seems to hit harder when I watch my partner walk out the door, and I’m left with the mess of my day.

I’m trying not to resent him; we are all doing what is best for our family right now, but it can get difficult.

I’m trying not to rush this time with my daughter

While I juggle caring for my kid and getting work done for my clients, I wonder if I am doing the right thing. But I remind myself that this time is so fleeting. My daughter is only this little for such a short period of time, and I will never get this uninterrupted time with her ever again.

As we start our search for the perfect preschool for her, I find myself crying as I picture her learning and having fun without me. Will I really have to let her go in just one short year? It seems unbearable.

So, as much as I rail against all of the limitations this life has given me, I squeeze my daughter a little tighter every day as I whisper to her, “You don’t have to grow up so fast, do you?” Every day I watch as she most definitely is growing up too fast.