When drop-off breaks my heart: A letter to my child’s day care team

Grateful doesn’t even begin to cover it.

When drop-off breaks my heart: A letter to my child’s day care team

To my wingwoman,

You're more than just a day care teacher, you know. You care for our most prized person, every single day.

The words “thank you” don't seem to do justice to how grateful I actually am for you.

Every morning when I wake up, I pick my daughter up out of her crib and I cling to her because I know in a few short hours she’ll no longer be in my arms. She’ll be in yours. I slide on my pantyhose, throw on my heels and head out the door for a whirlwind day. First stop: day care drop-off.

I can still get anxious some days pulling up to your building, but when I walk in the room to drop off my little girl, you are there for us. You’re smiling, full of energy. Ready to care for my daughter for the hours I cannot.


As I rush off to the office—to conference calls, meetings, and strategic conversations—I envy that time you get with her. In the beginning, it was brutal. Handing off my tiny baby to a strange woman I didn't know. I hated everything during those weeks. I hated my pencil skirts. I hated the commute to work. I hated my job. I hated the guilt. I think I even hated you.

But now? Now I adore you.

You’re my right arm.

You’re my wingwoman.

You’re there with my daughter, five days a week—loving her, comforting her, teaching her.

I’ve learned that my working-mom badge can carry a lot of weight. The heavy weight of guilt. But you have given me such a gift.

You allow me to wear my working-mom badge with pride—not guilt.

I'll never forget the day I got a call that my daughter was sick and needed to be picked up. It was the first time I wasn't able to rush to her side. My husband called me later that afternoon to tell me how pick-up went.

I broke down in tears as he described the love you were showing our sick little girl. You were rocking her ever so gently, stroking her back, comforting her—just the way I would. I realized in that moment that I love the love you show my daughter in the moments when I cannot. While it ripped my heart out to not be there with her, I knew you were and I was confident you could make our girl feel safe.

So until I can find the words to convey the profound appreciation I have for you...

“Thank you, wingwoman!” will just have to do.

A version of this article was originally published on I Spilled My Wine.

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Listen, mom-guilt is a dirty liar. Yes, it's your job to fill your little human's needs, but you matter too. Don't forget to take care of yourself. Hang out with friends, take a drive blaring 90's hip hop or shower without interruptions—trust me, you'll be a better person (and mom) because of it.

Dear new mom,

You will shave again someday. Today is not that day.

Set expectations low, my friend, and set your partner's lower—at least where body hair and overall hygiene are concerned.

That conversation could go something like this: “From now on let's not consider shaving a “standard," but more like a gift that happens on birthdays and the first day of summer."

Voila, you are a gift-giving genius. You know what else is a gift? Shaving the inch and a half of skin that is between your skinny jeans and your boots. You're welcome world.

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