Why does it have to be so hard...and the world is on fire.

So, we have a new car seat. Peanut is a happy kid now; she has room to stretch and squirm happily. She used to cry EVERY time she was placed in her car seat. Now she cooes and makes happy raspberries. So, I hope the ridiculously expensive seat is really worth it, but so far it seems as if it is so.

I promised in my last post to discuss the child care debacle, so here goes. We interviewed for day care in July, because I had to go back to work in August. We met with the woman, I'll call her Ms. D___. She seemed mellow and nice. She'd been licensed for over 10 years and she seemed to really care about the kids. There was an unstructured feeling at her home, which we liked, since we wanted to have Peanut in a place that felt like a home, not an institution.

Then it began to go wrong.

Ms. D___ took Peanut with her to get fast food. She'd never mentioned taking our daughter anywhere in a car. She acted as if we were crazy for being unhappy about this.

Ms. D___ had people dropping in and out of her house all the time.

Ms. D___ put Peanut to sleep in a small pack-n-play on a pillow- on her tummy. That's how SIDS happens- at least it becomes more likely. When mentioned by us, she acted as if we were being silly and overprotective.

Finally, Ms. D___ gave me papers to tell me that the State of California had found her liable in being negligent in a child breaking his leg at her home while in her care. She then tried to cast aspersions on the child's mother, as if bad parenting caused the accident, somehow. The same papers stated that there were allegations that people were drinking at her house while children were in her care.

So we took Peanut out. We scrambled to find care for her. My sister, my step mother, friends, flexible scheduling at work... We managed to juggle it all for two weeks.

We finally ended up with two interviews. A chain of childcare providers that I'll call "KinderScare" and Mrs. H___, a grandma that takes care of a friend's child.

"KinderScare" was AWFUL. I've never been to a Romanian orphanage, but that is close to what I pictured. A three month old baby lay on the LINOLEUM floor crying while a staffer stood over her, chatting with another staffer. My husband said in the car that he was getting so stressed out that he nearly picked up that baby. Peanut didn't smile the entire time we were there. Neither of us could picture leaving her there- I'm sure that it is generally a safe place, but so completely clinical that I couldn't imagine it not impacting Peanut's social development. I would quit my job before leaving her in a place like that.

Then there was Mrs. H___. She wanted to cuddle Peanut right away. She had pictures of her grandchildren all over. She has a big backyard and a sweet chocolate lab. Her grandaughter and my friend's child were playing happily in the backyard with the dog keeping a watchful eye on them. It seemed just right.

And now we have Mrs. H___, who is a kind grandmother who has watched a friend's two children since their infancy. She always wants a last hug with Peanut everyday. And Peanut smiles at her in the way that she smiles at all of her grandmas. So all is well once more in Peanut-ville.

Except the part about half of Southern California being in flames. My throat is raw from all the smoke- and I was inside all day, except for when I was walking from buildings into my car. Our house smells like burning. We are miles from the fires, but the Santiago Canyon fire looked like hell when I drove south to work this morning. I was driving along, towards the bank of smoke obliterating the sunrise this morning and I just thought, why am I driving TOWARDS it? It is just such a nonsense thing to do, don't you think? You're supposed to flee, or something.... Right?