Baby in college

We have strong feelings about education. We started our first child in religious education at home as soon as we could read to him, and on Sundays he started in nursery at 18 months. Of course, at 18 months it’s mainly, don’t hit other children and don’t run around during singing time. Actually singing with the group comes later. But we were determined our children would learn.

We were both taking college classes concurrently for one semester after our first child was born. I took care of the baby on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday; my husband cared for him on Tuesday and Thursday. Many times I fell asleep nursing him with a college textbook on my lap. I took to reading them aloud to keep myself awake and to cement the information in mind. My husband worked graveyard shift at a radio station, so by the end of the semester he couldn’t keep awake on his days off from class. I took our baby boy to classes with me for the last couple weeks. My teachers were fairly understanding. My geology teacher had a display on the overhead screen; my son looked very interested. Everyone else stared at my son. I was not the only mother in the class, but most of the students were 18, barely dry behind the ears. After the baby interrupted someone’s speech, my communications teacher told me he’d count me present and I could take the baby out in the hall. I talked with the professor afterwards. He sympathetically said that this would pass quickly. I made some comment about everything being slobbery at this stage. He said the handprints would get sticky and dirty and then disappear. I understood dimly that he meant they would grow up and go away, but couldn’t wrap my head around it then.

Looking back, I remember another mom had her elementary age daughter with her in class. Her child had a cold, too sick to go to her own school, but present with mom. I wondered about that. I have more sympathy now. Even then I felt the rules of school needed to bend to humans, not the other way around.