Daycare Interviews – I.E. Free Therapy

July 15, 2010

in Mommy-ville Detour, Tales from the Back of the Unemployment Line

It’s been 7 months.  7 months since my last “sick day.”  7 months since all I had to figure out was whether to make myself a quesadilla or grilled cheese sandwich for lunch.  7 months since being engaging meant spending the entire day reading and watching ANTP CSPAN before going out for an evening with friends.  7 months since the most amazing craft project I’ve ever attempted was made.

So you’d think, after 7 months, I’d be an expert at this whole “Mom” thing, right?  I mean, really, any job you go into has a training period of just 6 months.  Except my last one.  Which considered me trained after, oh, the first 2 hours.  Except on the things I actually already knew.

Anywhoooo.

The point to my ramblings?  Other than seeing how many times I can hit my 7 button before it dies?  Is that after 7 months?  I?  Still haven’t a Clue what I’m doing.

Sure, I’m a pro at what to do with a 4 month old.  Hand me one of those babies, and I’d rock their world. Unfortunately, the Little Man decided to shatter that glass ceiling and continue on past the 4 month mark.

Crap.

Fortunately, I had that interview for the Big Opportunity a few months ago.  You know, the one that turned out to be a Fantastic Opportunity.  On a Farm.  For someone else.

And while it did not actually let me cut the unemployment line, it did give me the perfect excuse for some free mommy-therapy.  And by mommy-therapy, I mean daycare interviews.

Seriously.  If you ever feel in question about your ability to adequately engage your child?  Tour your local daycare!

Personally, I toured two.

One was a local business started by a grandmother and run on a compound of cute little yellow houses.  That probably would have had baby chickens, kittens, and puppies frolicking outside in the tulip beds.  If it hadn’t been March.  In the Middle of Nowhere.  And thus simultaneously raining, snowing, and blowing sideways.  While I did not personally meet the grandmother-owner (I think it was her nap time), I did get a tour from her assistant, the former Mary Poppins.  She showed me the nursery filled with cribs of sleeping babies, the room where they can choose to play on their playmats or in their megasaucers, explained that they read at least 3 books a hour day, and proudly displayed the holiday art work they created by dipping the babies’ hands in jello paint and then using craft paper to dry them off.  Possibly while they were napping.

It was cute.  Nurturing.  A tad magical.  And Totally reassuring.  Because while I may not be able to summon small woodland creatures to dance on my fingertips, I actually do ALL of the things they do!  Except for the jello painting.  That’s just a waste of good jello in my opinion.

Of course, after seeing their price list, I had to gracefully back myself AND the kid AND the diaper bag AND the stroller out of there and high-tail it over to the other side of town.  To a place that may or may not have been sponsored by Disney.  And charged only $3 an hour.

FYI?  Sticking Mickey Mouse on the walls does NOT make it a happy place.  Even if it could possibly make my cash-strapped wallet happy.

Sure, they had the lines of cribs.  Filled with screaming babies.  None of whom were being paid attention to by the three staff members busy discussing the latest developments in the American Idol Elimination Rounds childcare.  And sure they had a line of mega saucers.  That I’m fairly certain were being used for the kids not lucky enough to be dropped off before all the cribs were used up.  And sure, they had a play area.  Surrounded by a carpeted concrete wall.  Lined with children clinging to the sides, begging with their eyes for me to, please, please take them with me.

Seriously.  I almost left with at least three more children than I came with.  Unfortunately my arms were a bit full with the Little Man and all his paraphernalia.  Also?  I only have one crib.

So on the days when I’m tapped out of ideas, and don’t think I can find the energy to play one more round of peek-a-boo as if it were my favorite thing in the entire universe, and am oh-so-close to breaking my ban on TV and letting Barney babysit?  I think back to my day of daycare therapy.  And realize two things:

1.  Apparently, I knew more about this whole parenting thing than I thought I did.  At least four months ago.

2.  It could be worse.  I could be taking care of the Little Man AND three daycare fugitives right now.  Or in jail.

{ 3 comments }

Nicole Carpenter July 18, 2010 at 11:22 pm

Barney still gives me nightmares. Whoever decided to give him fame needs serious help:)

Domesticated Gal July 16, 2010 at 12:05 pm

I'm just scared of Barney – the man is a scar on my childhood memories from when my sister watched nothing else!

Poppy July 16, 2010 at 3:43 am

The witch in Hansel and Gretel with the candy house looked like a kindly old granny too until she tried to eat Hansel. Until Big Man is old enough to say the words "help me", Barney is a fine babysitter.

My middle kid was such a pain in the ass, I couldn't leave her with anyone because I wanted to hurt her half the time. I knew the odds would go up with someone who didn't love her.

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