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I began my search for the right childcare centre when my daughter was two years old. It stands as one of the most difficult decisions I’ve had to make on her behalf.
I’d greatly underestimated the courage I’d need to entrust her care to someone else, the guilt I would feel, and the amount of research that would go into the process.
Eva was roughly sixteen months old when fear, in her world, was suddenly tangible; it lived in the topmost shelf of the pantry, and would move to the kitchen bench when we blended smoothies in our house.
‘Korktu!’ A new word she yelled. Scared. I’d heard her over the blitzing machine, and turned to see her tiny hands gripping the corner of the wall she was hiding behind, the tips of her nails pale.
Image: Supplied.