Two Kisses for Maddy_ A Memoir of Loss & Love - Matthew Logelin [77]
So here we were. Tom put me in touch with a friend of his in Minneapolis who sold life insurance, and the guy sent somebody over to the house to collect samples from me—in my backyard….
My backyard was lovely. It really was. Big and lush with a giant eucalyptus tree in the far corner, and a koi pond full of fat, orange goldfish that did nothing but swim in circles all day. It was a big part of why Liz and I wanted this house: so our children could run around in this backyard, and we could host big parties for all of our friends and family. One thing I never imagined happening in our backyard was a woman coming over to take my blood and collect a urine sample. (Okay, that wasn’t technically collected out back, but it was where I handed over the warm jar of piss.) Then the lady and her mobile unit drove away with the bodily fluids that would hopefully prove I was worth more dead than alive. At least if I was going to die, I was going to die responsibly.
My reentry into the real world also meant that I obviously needed to find somewhere for Madeline to spend her days while I spent mine in an office. The idea that people could just leave their kids somewhere all day was crazy to me, but I knew I had to do it. The place I wanted for her was clear in my mind, but more elusive in reality—somewhere incredible. The most gentle, safe, healthy, loving day care on the entire planet.
Liz had been adamant about returning to work after she had the baby. “I cannot be a stay-at-home mom” was a familiar refrain, which hadn’t surprised me—she had always worked her ass off, focused on and determined to do well at her job, to move up. I have no doubt that she would have been a VP by the time she was thirty-two while raising our child at the same time. So when I started thinking about what it would be like to leave Maddy at day care, it helped to know that Liz would have been all for it.
But finding the place for our daughter without my wife’s input meant a lot of research and a lot of legwork. Luckily, one of Liz’s best friends, Elizabeth, stepped in to help me with the search. She had been one of Liz’s colleagues and supporters at her first job out of college, and later they had been reunited at Disney. When Liz died, Elizabeth generously incorporated us into her life, bringing her three little girls over so they could play with Maddy. Well, by playing, I mean looking and poking—she was just an infant.
I had also posted on the blog about my search. One reader sent a note that said, “I just moved to Portland recently, and the thing I miss most about LA is this day care.” My first reaction was that this e-mail was incredibly weird. I mean, if I left LA, the list of things I’d miss would include the Tiki Ti and Amoeba Records, but probably not the place my kid hung out without me all day. But my second thought was that this was the most ringing endorsement I had ever heard for a day care.
After we looked at somewhere between fifteen and twenty facilities, I actually ended up picking that one. My choice was based on a mixture of research, recommendation, and gut feelings. Usually, when Elizabeth and I went to check out a space, something would turn me off immediately, like the way the staff talked in baby voices to the infants, or the surplus of baby books about Jesus. But at this place, I was charmed. The school was in a house with a calm, friendly, earthy vibe that I immediately connected to, even though I’m the last person you would find in the parking lot at a Phish show. There were toys everywhere, the schedule seemed less rigidly structured than at some of the other places, and their philosophy included talking to children like adults. I was never a goo-goo ga-ga kind of dad—I’d rather just explain to my six-month-old