Mishaps, Schedules and Disaster

When I decided to go back to work I had to face the same traumatic decision as every other working mother.

"Who will take care of my child while I am away?"

The obvious first choice was my mother. She raised three of us while working, one should be no problem, right?

It all went smoothly, at first. Eventually, it became clear that she just didn't have the stamina to keep up with my busy body toddler full time, while managing her own life.

Next, we turned to a licensed childcare provider, one of those "in-home daycare" deals.

It started out fine, the daycare was run by a very nice, middle aged lady, and usually a 17 to 18-year-old girl there to help. My nephew attended there as well, which helped my daughter's transition enormously.

However, after a few weeks, I started getting short notice (or no notice) cancellations. They would randomly shut down, and of course, we were still expected to pay full price for the week. Compile that with a ridiculous turn over rate in their staff, it seemed like every time my daughter got attached to one of the girls they would quit, it just didn't seem stable enough for her.

Needless to say, we pulled out. Shortly after that, I found out most of the other parents had done the same.

After that, we tried one more place of a similar nature. These women up and moved out of state on me with only a days notice.

Begrudgingly, grandma agreed to take the helm until we found something else.

A few frantic weeks later I landed on a permanent, professional, accredited learning center. They offered a fantastic transitional preschool program. The price was a little steep, but I thought it was well worth it. They were only closed the day before any holiday, and had a structured curriculum.

I was thrilled! Over the moon!

Finally I could work and not constantly worry about my child. She was thriving there, made a friend, learned songs and skills, in a safe environment, from an educated professional.

Around Christmas things started going south. Her best friend had a birthday and moved up a level, into a different room.

Suddenly there was a maybe influx of kids, allegedly caused by the previous two places going under, and her class of seven kids suddenly became a class of sixteen kids.

The incident reports started flowing. My child became disruptive, angry, frustrated and bored. She simply wasn't getting the one-on-one attention that young children need, and she started acting out because of it.

Shortly thereafter I started getting calls at work, she was inconsolable and would need to be picked up early, she kicked at a teacher at nap time and I needed to come get her.

We tried discipline at home, but the staff informed me that they really couldn't carry any of that over into the classroom environment. They weren't even allowed to put children her age in time out.

I tried behavior charts, incentives, grounding her to her room. I took away screen time, toys, and outings.

At one point I got so desperate that I even took her to the pediatrician, afraid that we were seeing signs of some kind of syndrome.

She did a couple of simple social and activity tests and assured me that my child was perfectly normal, a little ahead of the game academically even. Her diagnosis was simple. She was bored, not challenged, and in a group of kids that just weren't on her level.

So, while my child was well-behaved (as well-behaved as any other three-year-old anyway) at home and with her grandparents, she was becoming an absolute heathen while she was there. They could not do anything to punish her, and she knew it.

So I started pushing for her to move up to the next class. Where they had actual tasks, and time out. I was sure that these factors, coupled with the return of her friend would help smooth her out. We got to the week before she was eligible, we began ticking off the days on the calendar.

We made it to just two days prior.

The list went on until finally, the program director called to say that she had been cornered by a staff member after refusing to pick up a toy, and that she had bitten the staff member. She would have to be retrieved immediately and could not return.

While I do not believe my child didn't have any fault in this, I do believe that a combination of environment and an understaffed facility contributed quite a bit.

Shortly after the incident, two more unreliable sitters later, I gave it up.

I talked it over with my husband, told him I was sick of having other people raise my child.

And the next day I quit my job.

I'm now back to fulfilling the SAHM roll.

We paint, we craft, we play outside. In between I squeeze out laundry, dishes, and vacuuming. It's not my dream job, but it's the most important job.

My daughter has since settled back down, she hasn't assaulted anyone, and she's still pushing her limits. However, as her parent I am able to set limited and actually enforce them when needed.

There is no perfect answer. For me, and my family, for right now, the answer is for me to be here. Where I'm needed most.