remember
this post? when i said i loved the new daycare?
welp.
yeah.
not so much.
here's why (and you can think i'm an overprotective idiot mom if you want and if so, you are cordially invited to suck it because i am not paying someone MORE than i paid for any given year of my college tuition to TEXT HER FRIENDS WHILE MY BABY IS UNATTENDED WITH A PROPPED BOTTLE.)
- ok, there is that first one. but we won't start there because that wasn't the first thing. we'll save that one for last.
- we came in for a visit the week before she started and i noticed that two of the three babies (only three babies in the entire room, remember.) were in walkers. now, i don't know what your personal opinion is on walkers, but i don't like them. in fact, i didn't even know they SOLD them anymore, let alone put them in daycares. i personally find them unhelpful and in some situations dangerous. no, there were no stairs in this room, but still. you can't entertain three babies on your own? you have to CAGE them?? i said nothing.
- she mentioned sunscreen and that they'd be going outside soon because of the weather. i said what do you bring the babies who aren't walking yet out in? (our work center brough them out in a buggy or let them sit on a big blanket and play). THE WALKERS. did i mention the UNEVEN CEMENT PATIO? i said, "ok, my husband and i don't feel comfortable with olivia being in a walker." she looked at me like i was crazy and said, "but they help them learn to walk, you know." (that is a lie. but i let it slide.) i replied, "we'd really rather she learn on her own when she's ready." she said, "i'm 53 and i have two grown children. i know what i'm doing." (SERIOUSLY.) i said, (surprisingly calmly) "i am counting on it! but still, our pediatrician doesn't recommend them. so please don't put her in one." she said, "ooooookay (condescendingly -- i thought), whenever you're ready." me: "we won't ever be ready. just please don't put her in a walker."
RED FLAG ALREADY, RIGHT? tom and i thought maybe i was reading too much into her tone because i was all forlorn and distraught about leaving our center, so i let it go. i spoke to our teachers about it and they said they have not heard of a walker in a center in YEARS. ugh.
i was really apprehensive, of course, after that, to bring her. but we finished our time at our center and the staff threw livie a party and made her a huge poster with a poem and pictures and handprints of all of her classmates. it was so sweet. and the director said, "you have a credit in your account. i can reimburse you for it or we can hang on to it for a few weeks. just in case." i laughed, but i kept it there. BACK TO THE NIGHTMARE DAYCARE:
- tuesday, her first day. nothing was ready for her. there was a ball pit full of plastic balls in the crib she was to use. nice. otherwise, it was an ok day.
- wednesday, second day: i had to pick her up early to go to the doctor because she'd been coughing and wheezing for a few days. turns out she needed a nebulizer. the pedi says to give it every four hours and writes me a note for daycare. i kept her home the rest of the day.
- thursday, third day: i bring her in, along with the neb and the note. her teacher gives me a deer in headlights look when i ask about the neb. she gets the director. the director says that they cannot administer the nebulizer. i reply, "but she needs it every four hours. i have a note." she says, "we only administer emergency medication." me: "isn't the inabillity to breathe an emergency?" she says (and this is the director, mind you), "my job is to make your life easier by watching your child, not being her doctor." HOW AM I KEEPING MY COOL? HOW??? i say, "she can't be the only child here with this issue." apparently the other parents come in throughout the day to administer the treatments. i work forty minutes away. i leave her in her room and work from home the rest of the day so i can come in and give her the treatment. i tell them i'll be in at 11:30am and the teacher gives me an exasperated sigh. "that's when the children nap." um, TOO FREAKIN BAD. so they have her waiting for me, in the dark, and tell me i have to give her the treatment in the kitchen.
- friday, fourth day: i work from home again because of the neb. when i pick her up in the afternoon, the teacher says i really need to get her on a one nap a day schedule (she's 8.5 months old.) AND on the center schedule because "it's not fair to the other children if they are trying to sleep and she's being loud." i ask what she's doing when they're sleeping. she is sitting alone on the floor in the dark.
LAST STRAW. i am beyond angry. i call around all over town to centers i already know have waiting lists for a year. to centers i know we can't afford. i am desperate. i call one that i don't know the tuition fee, but assume it's totally out of our price range. the director answers and we talk for forty minutes. she is in tears with me as i explain our situation. they're having an open house on saturday and she encourages us to come in. they have a fourteen month wait list for infants, but let's talk.
we go. it's AMAZING. it's a brand new center. the standards for everything are insane. she will learn sign language, spanish, CHINESE. she will take baby yoga. the playground is insane. the teachers immediately make me melt. the director is hugging and loving on olivia the entire time we're there (two hours).
we took the information packets home and looked everything over. it's more than we pay at the horror show, but hi, i am learning that you get what you pay for. so monday morning, i drop olivia off at hell and say, "yep, still on the neb. i'll be back in three hours." and when i get home, i call the new place. say, OMG WE LOVE YOU. she says, "give me an hour to see what i can do with the numbers. i can't imagine that sweet girl going anywhere else!" an hour later she says they can enroll her beginning in two weeks. YAY!!!
i call my old center and they are psyched to take her back for the interim so i go immediately to the shit hole and ask to speak to the director. i tell her it's going to be olivia's last day. she said, "ya gotta do what ya gotta do."
i go into her room and see that there is my girl on the floor in a bouncy seat (that she is ENTIRELY too big for), with her bottle propped up by a blanket while her teacher is standing across the room texting.
i say, "this is olivia's last day," as i start to gather her things. she replies, "yeah, i kinda figured."
SERIOUSLY.
