Dropping Abigail off at daycare always made me feel like garbage. I tried listening to news, listening to music, sitting in silence. Nothing worked, the drive into work always bummed me out. Stewing in silence made things worse. NPR made me think of Ms. Cheeks (ohhh, I bet Abigail sympathizes with the plight of Guatamalen plantain pickers). Cheery music backfired, the Muppets Movie soundtrack just made me imagine Tank as a muppet being neglected by other muppets.
Old daycare always felt to me felt like I was dropping her off at a detention center. It was the TSA holding cell of daycares. Safe but boring. No feedback, no activities, no participation, no plan for growth. I felt confident she wasnt going to get shived by other babies but it turns out that not enough for me.
She's been at bourgie urban daycare for three days and we've already received more notes, more feedback and more positive interaction than we received the entire time we were at homeland security detention center for kids. When Mary picks her up at night they talk to her about what Cheeks did during the day. They send home a sheet full of notes detailing her entire day. Her second day there she took a wagon tour of the facility, did footprints on construction paper for valentines day and spent the rest of the time playing with toys or on a play mat.
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| Happy Valentines Day, here are my tiny feet |
A lot of this is for our benefit. The footprints mean nothing to her. Fine. But damnit, daycare is expensive. Its for us but its thoughtful and sweet. The only things we ever got from TSA daycare were mystery clothes changes and unidentifiable guilt.
I worried it was stupid to move her this early. Yeah, Im stupid. Stupid like a fox!
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| Pope Penguinhat will be able to speak in Simpsons references by age 3 |
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