Monday, February 1, 2010

When Bad Baysitters happen to Good Kids

If I'm completely honest with myself, i knew it wasn't a good daycare set-up. The blinds were drawn, the plastic (read: cheap) toys were all neatly put away and it was way too quiet. And the 3 other kids were all incarcerated when we arrived. The 1 year old peered out from a pack-in-play (read: playpen) and the 2 preschoolers were sitting on chairs with their hands in the laps. "Get out of here" said my inner voice. I ignored her because I desperately wanted this one hour to have my bookclub and be with adults and not have to change any diapers.

So I left you there with the woman who didn't quite speak english....

An hour and 15 minutes later as I approached the door to the little cottage I could hear the baby crying. But it wasn't a baby. It was you. I opened the door to find you laying on the carpet wracked with those involuntary breaths that come with sobbing. The Child Care Provider launched into her defense, "he refused to sit and have "class. "He kept trying to go outside which wasn't on the Schedule".

My guilt slammed a fist into my heart and I wrapped my arms around your heaving body. "we will never come back again," I whispered into your red ears. I smiled benignly at the woman Doing Her Best and paid the $20. On the walk home, you held my hand tightly and parroted the words "Mommy always comes back" and "we wont ever go back to Bad Amanda's house again".

I thank God for how resilient He makes children. Now you sit at my feet driving your race cars around their track. You wont discuss what happened but we have decided together that if we went in a tree house, Bad Amanda does not know how to climb and could not get us.

Maybe later we'll make a book together to process your fear about whatever took place. Perhaps she used a strong voice, perhaps she used force to keep you in. Thinking about it breaks my heart. So I will draw the pictures and help you with the words.

And we wont go back to bad amanda's again. But inside, I am angry with bad mommy who chose herself over your comfort.

No comments:

Post a Comment