Fu*$ing Guilt

So....Thursday, my mother comes to see Uber-Peanut. She plays with her, distracts her during a conference call, all is well, in mother-daughter land, relatively speaking.

Then, when I come down from my conference call, she lays the wammy one me: You shouldn't send H to daycare. (It's going to be 3 days a week.) She's too wobbly. You'll be lucky she doesn't come home with her head split open. She's going to be broken-hearted. She's going to feel betrayed. She's going to come home hungry, cause other kids her age can feed themselves better than she can. My Mother says she can "usually" watch her one day a week, but can't promise the day, but wants me to cancel a day of daycare, AND make my office bend to that schedule. (Ummmm...my kid needs consistancy too!) My mother thinks that because it is my father's company, this is acceptable. It's not like we have clients or anything that depend on us, now is there?

I brushed her off that day. That night, I got in a huge fight with my husband, cause I feel like dirt. I worry that she's going to be in a crib crying because she's afraid to go to sleep in this new place for her nap. I'm terrified that she's going to choke, or go hungry. I'm scared that she's going to bale out and conk her head on a toy shelf or something. I'm scared that she's going to sob for me for a day, or that she's not going to care that I left. I'm scared the little baby kisses that have started to come, open mouth slobber and all, will stop.

And I'm pissed that my mother did such a mind-fuck on me. I know that's what it is. But I'm terrified to leave her there. I know it's a good place. I know she'll be fine.

But, why am I crying about it? Even now, 4 days later? Am I wrong for promising to her to always be there and then leaving her 3 days a week?

I can't stay home all the time, honestly, I need a break every once in a while. I love her to death, but I love my job (not always the people at Happy Workland, but that's another story). I love having more to me than sippy cups and diapers to discuss too. I wish I was that person, but I can't be. I thought I had a great compromise worked out. I guess not.

How bad a parent am I going to be in a week and a half?