Wednesday, February 07, 2007

Failing at giving it a shot.

We are currently on a wild hunt for a daycare for Reed, and it's giving me the constipation a little bit. I just CLENCH UP, you know? On February 19 Jason will start a new job where he works until noon, which means that from eight until noon, Reed is going to have to find some place to go because I'm not going to put up with him messing up the house while I'm not there. So we're looking into daycare because the dog track said he's too young to bet, and too little to race, plus he doesn't like wearing those numbers they have to wear.

This daycare thing raises a couple of problems which, to some, may seem not so big, but in my head they've turned gigantic, tyrranosaurus rex, bloated McDonald's-eating sized, so this process is really fun for Jason.

First, we literally don't have any spare money at the moment. We just don't. It's difficult to pay the bills we have, so I'm just not sure that adding another bill is the way to go. I realize that there may not be any other option, but if the one option is to spend money that we don't have, I'm just not sure that it's an option at all.

Second, I am profoundly uncomfortable with sending Reed to daycare. It's a lot of stuff, really. I don't like the idea of someone else raising my kid, even someone who's nice and sweet and all that. The idea of Reed doing things or saying things or behaving in ways that I or someone very close to me didn't teach him makes my skin crawl right off of my body. Plus, right now while he's too young to talk and explain and TATTLE I will never be sure that he's being treated well, that someone isn't doing things to him that would make me show up with a shovel saying, "Okay, just put your head right here on this table and don't move it." And I'm not even talking about the really awful stuff that I'm not going to bother detailing here so that I can avoid ripping my fingernails right off my hand. I'm talking about stuff like grabbing his arm and jerking him around, or calling him names that I don't like, or getting up in his face to yell at him, or using a "technique" that the person thinks she saw on Supernanny a couple of weeks ago. And I'm not just coming up with this stuff; these are things that I've seen in daycares, GOOD daycares that I've worked in. And I just don't like it.

And then Jason says stuff like, "Well, I just definitely DON'T want to send him to this place, because So-and-So's sister's cousin had a kid that went there and they did BAD things to him." And the next thing I know I'm hyperventilating and throwing up in a bag in the corner yelling, "Wait for me, Jesus! Wait for me, I'm comin'!" Because it is EXACTLY THIS, this fact that bad things happen and it's difficult to predict them or prevent them, that makes me ill. Add to that the fact that we don't have the money to get the best daycare possible, to pick and choose, and I just don't know if I can do it.

I KNOW that lots and lots of kids have great experiences in daycares, that they learn how to play with other kids and they learn songs and do fun activities, and have teachers who they love and remember for the rest of their lives. I know that plenty of people send their kids to daycare and feel safe and secure in their choices. And that's fine. I'm not saying that daycare is bad or that it's a bad choice. I'm saying that it is not the choice for me, that it is not what I want to do.

When Reed was a tiny baby, Jason and I were talking about it, and I was telling Jason all this stuff, and Jason said, "Well I went to daycare and I turned out okay!" And I said, "But Reed is a tiny baby! Were you tiny baby when your mom sent you to daycare?" "Yes." "Oh. How old were you?" "I was three."

THREE, he says. Reed wasn't three then, and he's not three now. When Reed is three, he'll be able to tell me what he did that day, and whether or not he likes his teacher and friends. But he can't do that right now. Besides that, Kane and Jude never went to daycare either. So it just feels so unfair that I have to send my kid to daycare even though I am violently, pukingly against it.

So I guess we'll have to go to Mexico. Reed and I will love the food, plus they have good drugs there. AND maybe the dog tracks aren't so strict.


Jason said...

In the last century a noted psychologist, B.F. Skinner, created a nice little box that you could leave your baby in. It was heated and air conditioned, fully enclosed, and maybe it had some sort of gerbil-like bottle feeder in it as well. He used it on his daughter, and despite modern-day legend (claiming psychosis, suicide by bowling, and suing her father) she went on to be a normal adult. Maybe the Skinner box is an appropriate alternative for you and Reed.

Remember that eventually you will have to leave Reed in the care of others and by that time your excuses may have changed to fit him then. The best solution is to force your mother (or another suitable relative) into retirement and have them watch Reed.

Seriously though... you will become accustomed to someone else watching Reed. Jenni, I love her but she can be neurotic when it comes to motherhood, only took about two weeks to adjust. Just be sure to look at the place and get recs from other people. You are running out of time and some of the good ones may be full.

Of course, if your job is flexible enough maybe you could seek out a schedule change...

buffy said...

Jason called a few places yesterday, and I sent Carla a message asking her about the program you told me about, and I've been trying to call Avondale Methodist today but I keep getting a busy signal. So I'm trying, you know? I just need to vent along the way.