Baby Steps

Dylan cries when I take him to nursery and it kills me. Every week it’s the same. He’s affectionate before we leave, cautious in the car and crying by the time we pull up outside. I hand him over and he stops crying long enough to flash me a look that says ‘How could you do this, Daddy? I thought we were friends…’ The sense of betrayal is overwhelming.

This week was worse than usual. Dylan's sneezing candles* again and we don't know if it's hay fever, teething or if he's catching a cold. Either way, he's more subdued than usual and I think maybe he takes after me. I cried when my parents took me for trampolining lessons and I was painfully homesick when they left me at boarding school. I guess fear of abandonment is in his genes.

The truth is Dylan's fine five minutes after I've left but I’m a mess for the rest of the day. I don't know how Holly's managed all this time but my coping mechanism isn’t very sophisticated—so far it involves listening to country music (for the pain) and staying busy (for the distraction). Holly says it’s okay to phone the nursery and make sure he’s all right, but I can’t do that. I want the nursery to be responsible for the children, not the worried fathers.

The funny thing is that Dylan enjoys his time at nursery, so why is he so upset when I drop him off? The obvious answer is separation anxiety—he's still grappling with object permanence (the idea that Holly and I still exist even though he can't see us). So what do I do? My chocolate bribe didn't pacify him and country music only makes him worse. He did get better for a while when Holly was taking him, but then I took over and it was the end of the world again. I guess the truth is that Dylan's gone from having one primary caregiver (Holly), to two (Holly and me) and will shortly be going back to one (me). Children like routine and we've dropped a bomb on his.

When I take him to nursery, I try to treat the morning like any other. I tell him where he’s going before we leave so there are no secrets or surprises (although I don't think he has the word nursery in his vocabulary yet—I'm working on it). I talk to him in the car and try to sound upbeat. I hold his hand and walk him to the door because the walk is distracting. I encourage him to say hello when we arrive, hand him to someone he knows, and leave promptly after saying goodbye. Of all these points, I think saying goodbye is the most important. My hope is that if I always say goodbye when I leave, he’ll get used to the fact that I always come back.

Is all this grief really worth it? Is nursery a good idea? Parents and grandparents seem to have wildly conflicting opinions on this. What I know is this: it would have been easy for my parents to give up on sending me to trampolining and boarding school, but I'm glad they didn't. I represented three counties in the trampolining and won team gold in the regional trials up in Scotland. And after my first term at boarding school, I didn't want to go home again. I felt like I owned the place.

I want Dylan to be confident, sociable and, to a degree, independent. I'm sure it's possible to instill all these qualities in a child without sending them to nursery but I also think that nursery helps. And just because it's difficult for me doesn't mean it's not the best thing for Dylan. My hope is that one day he’ll stop crying and start looking forward to to spending the day with his friends.

Until then, I'm going to have to learn to live with the tears.

*Holly's description