I think there are at least a few people in this world who adapt to change better than I do. Wait, scratch that. I’m sorry to say that I have no idea what the world’s population is off the top of my head, but let’s just say that if it’s 609 zillion people – there are probably 603 zillion of them who accept change better than I do. Now, that’s not to say that I’m inflexible, but I do like to stay the course, if possible. For instance, whenever we go to Muchas Gracias for dinner, I always get a cheese enchilada and chicken taco. Why? Because it’s a sure (read: safe) bet.

Believe it or not, the same goes when it comes to matters involving parenting. Stability: good. Change: often not quite as good. When Ian came along, we lived in the Washington, D.C. area where you are more likely to see a politician acting like a mature adult than you are to get a spot for your baby at a daycare. It’s commonly known there that if you have any hope of getting your child into a “decent” daycare – meaning they at least feed them at some point during the day – you had better start going on tours and getting on wait lists before you get pregnant. Wait until conceive and you’ve already missed the boat. That’s all to say that it can be a beyond-stressful process to locate a place where you a) feel comfortable leaving your child and b) can actually get a spot to park them.

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