Saying Goodbye to the SuperManny
I am traumatized.
My kids are traumatized.
I think the SuperManny is somewhat traumatized.
Rarely do you hear about a person who raves about their childcare situation. If you work with me, you hear me rave almost daily.
This summer, I was SO lucky to have Mr. Brent, a.k.a. “The SuperManny” take care of my kids for the second summer in a row.
Sure, I stole him with reckless abandon from our daycare center last year. I’m okay with that. Nothing – I repeat – NOTHING is more important than my babes and the people they spend their time with when I am at work.
Last spring, I sweated profusely while waiting for his response to my inquiry about this summer. When he agreed, I pretty much almost cried.
Like last summer, they had another spectacular summer. This summer, no head lice, however. 
Summer sped by at a cruel pace this year, and today was D’s last day with Mr. Brent.
I was warned before arriving home that she was having “a day.” Apparently, she was very sentimental about each activity they did today – biking, going to the library, visiting his family…
As he drove off tonight, she was wailing and Boo and I were trying to comfort her. The minute she relaxed, Boo must have realized he was short on attention, and cried too.
He’s staying on with Mr. Boo for the next four days, and next week it’s back to daycare reality.
Sniffle! I’m very happy with my daycare arrangements, but when you are lucky enough to find a childcare provider you look at as family, it’s tough to go back.
