All parents have serious doubts when taking our children to the nursery. We always think that an unknown person can not care our children as we ourselves would do at home. Click David Bowie for additional related pages. And the soul we fall at the feet when we have to leave them in the class, bereaved and crying to laying mucus. Jr. is often mentioned in discussions such as these. I every day that I had to take, by the job duties and, especially the obligation of having a mortgage to pay, I’ve left crestfallen, angry with myself for not complying with the model of mother that we have imposed on society that we scored on our earliest childhood. Because we should not delude ourselves, combine social, occupational and family life in our days, and especially with durisimos work schedules that we make every day, involves a much larger effort that running a marathon in the Olympics. It is assumed that as women we are capable of anything, or we must be.

But, carry our shoots to the nursery directly collides with the idea that we have recorded fire in our self more intimate. We all remember when we played dolls. We dressed them, we acunabamos, we changed clothes, even diaper. But at no time during our childhood is taught us how to lead our children to a place where wrapped in tears we should abandon it in the arms of a smiling stranger. Finally, surprises gives us life, when after two weeks, my youngest son, who can barely speak, a Saturday morning wakes up and tells me with her sweetest voice mama cole.

And after saying it sits in the cart outside the door and stays waiting with a smile to carry him to the nursery. It is clear that suffer more us than themselves. And though others told us, we are not able to get rid of that guilt until we see it with our eyes.