Monday, March 3, 2008

Squirrels, Nerf Bats and Chicken Curry.

The first place I went to was so hot and the air so stuck that I felt like I had walked into my second grade classroom, but decorated like a Persian woman's home and with the spicy sweet smell of chicken curry hanging like cigarette smoke. I was trying to be open-minded, overshooting my "I'm not prejudice" bounds by going to Azizah's home, the first name on the daycare provider list for my area. I was ashamed at my first instinct to skip over her and move on to Melissa Jones, and over corrected by immediately imagining Azizah and I becoming best friends after she teaches me to belly dance and I drag her out to a karaoke bar. There was also some rich fantasy of how Jack would grow up in this fertile soil of multicultural boundlessness, all worldly and appreciative, and someday decide to become the President of Earth, the One who embraces all. Turns out that her house was just too damn stuffy. That, and I didn't like the way the kids at her house all had such vacant eyes, like they had been ignored all day and fed melaril for lunch.

The second place I went to I was greeted by a woman with a mullet wearing her keys on an "I love Jesus" lanyard around her neck and a tattoo on her right forearm that was so fuzzy and faded that it must have predated me. She opened the door for me to reveal a whole slew of children in her living room, several of which were crying, one that was jumping on the couch and another that was sitting two inches away from an episode of Spongebob on TV. There was a general feeling of anarchy and lawlessness that was confirmed when I watched one boy whack another boy with a nerf bat and nothing was done about it. Okeeeee....

The third one I went to I didn't even make it in the door. They had their garage door open and what appeared to be about 75 years worth of hoarding old scraps of furniture, clothing, and newspapers crammed inside. Sending my child to be raised by someone with OCD, I am not.

Choosing who is going to raise my child for me while I am at work is freaky shit. I mean, this is who is going to be standing in for me from the hours of 8am to 5pm. Are they going to hold him when he bumps his head? Are they going to teach him that he doesn't deserve to be hit by another child with a nerf bat by placing that child into time out? Are they going to kiss his nose before he takes his nap and tickle him when he wants to wrestle? How do mothers do this?

And as if I don't have enough to worry about, now I have to be leery of squirrels:

11 comments:

Anonymous said...

I have been lucky enough, to this point, not to have to send my children to an actual daycare. I was home with my daughter and I have been home with my son. I am facing the possibility of having to place him in daycare. I have decided, instead, to hire someone to come to my home. I'm even paying my local sheriff's office to run a criminal background check, because, yes, I am that kind of paranoid. It's a horrible feeling...I'm right there with ya!

Stacey said...

here by way of Inarticulate Fumblings...I really dig your blog name.

In any case, I can totally relate. Finding a suitable care provider for my twins when I returned to work almost 5 years ago was incredibly hard. No one was good enough. In the end I lucked out and a family member became available.
Even in the care of a family member I bawled my eyes out the first week or so I had to leave them.
Trust your gut on this ...if something doesn't feel right then move on and as viciousrumours says background checks are key and two visits are good. Visit once to ask the initial questions then visit again at a different time just to see if the care provider is consistent and if things are the same as when you toured the site/met the provider.
Best of luck!

Melissavina said...

I have only one thought: Keep Jack away from Nerf. I shoved a wad of that stuff up my nose when I was a kid and it wasn't found and removed for weeks (after a nasty sinus infection that nearly killed me.) Thank heavens for tweezers.

Anonymous said...

I think I just spent the weekend in place #3's garage [shudder]. Actually, it's garage twin is owned by my parents and looks slightly better after two days of purging. BE AFRAID! I adore my mother, but there is something a bit off with someone who insists on keeping every object they've owned over a lifetime (or in my mom's case - apparently MANY lifetimes...) Do you really want little Jack spending his days sorting orphaned Tupperware lids? Good call!

Heather J.

HopSkipJump said...

I keep thinking I want children... and then I read things like this and don't know if I'd be able to handle it. I know you would never "wish Jack away" but I don't know how you do it. Seriously.

Good luck in finding a daycare provider (sarcasm excluded... for real). As you have shown, it's a monumental task.

If I was there, you could count on Uncle Ry and Uncle Jess to take care of him. He might grow up to be a male figure skater but that's a risk you will be have to willing to take.

DanBin said...

All right. I felt depressed enough reading your blog... but much more after reading the comments... as i think about this possibility that I will have to face within the next year. Lets think positively. You can find a good daycare... you've provided great daycare to kids all your life, so have I...that tells me it is out there. Needless to say, it is a daunting tasks and you want to do it right... but you know what, kids can be safe and kissed and taught that its not ok to be hit by others by means of time out, etc etc... its out there. So, take a deep breath and move on to the next house...


Sorry, had to put some good vibes in

MOM: UNPROCESSED said...

That squirrel incident?! Seriously.
And I just spent the last 10 minutes being horrified and entertained by that tattoo link. Wow.

So glad you found a good place for Jack now! Just check for squirrels.

amber. said...

Vicious: I actually went to Community Care Licensing and read the facility files on all of the licensed day care homes I was considering. It was a good thing, too: one of them had stacks upon stacks of substantiated allegations of being understaffed and taking in more children than it was licensed for. Another daycare I was considering was nearly shut down a few years ago for forgoing the necessary background checks and hiring a wanted felon. AWESOME.
Worker mommy: Thanks for coming by! I'll be over to check your blog out, soon.
Melissavina: Oooooh... gnarly. I shoved a coffee bean up my nose when I was a kid. That could be a whole post... "what did you shove up your nose as a kid?"
Heather: Oh my god, I just had a flashback of your mom's care packages in college! Do you remember the randomness that was contained in those boxes? A lamp shade, a weird pair of underwear, coupons, canned food... oh, God. I love your mom, too, but WEIRD.
IF: Oh! I would only be so lucky to have him around you and Ryan! I think he is destined to become a male figure skater, anyways. Which is great by me. A male figure skater or a crossdresser, either one.
Bin: Beating taken. I know I sound whiny and freakishly anxious on my blog but my blog seems to have taken the place of my journaling. Hmmm... maybe this is a bad idea.
Unprocessed Mom: I KNOW! The squirrel attack news report is HILARIOUS! And doesn't it seem like the reporter gets how lame and comedic the whole thing is but has to try and pass as serious about the whole deal? I love it.

Anonymous said...

Hello there - you could try the old fashioned route - stay at home and look after your child yourself.

amber. said...

Anonymous...

Oh, great idea. And then I'll just wait for my invisible husband to go out to work and pay the bills. Brilliant.

amber. said...

Or, better yet, YOU can just send me a check every month.