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Subject: |
In Praise of Stay of Home Moms-- My Observations of Daycare |
| Date: |
2009-11-04
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In Praise of Stay of Home Moms-- My Observations of Daycare
Dear Dr. Laura,
Two weeks after reading your book "In Praise of Stay At Home Moms," I began work at a day care facility. It has proved a type of lab experience for the principles in your book.
I find it interesting that I have no children-and yet have been blessed to hear the title "mom" on more than one occasion while at daycare. Poor things don't realize that my face doesn't match the one that first welcomed them into the world. Absence makes the heart...forgetful.
My second day of work, I helped a baby take her first steps. Where was mom?
Oh, mom was there. You see, mom works at the daycare as a supervisor. However, mom was doing paperwork in the office. Me? I was playing in the grass with her baby-giving a congratulatory hug that was not mine to give. Too bad I won't be around-or even possess the emotional desire to record the experience in baby's scrapbook. You see, I'm not Mom.
A poor three year old wasn't tired for her nap so she screamed to me. I wanted to rock her in the chair for a few minutes to help sooth and drift her off to sleep. But I couldn't-there was a schedule to follow, and I had twelve other kids to see to. So, poor little three year old went screaming to the playpen. The door was shut. Did she get to sleep? I don't know. But two hours later I came back, when it was scheduled to get her up.
I consider myself equipped with the know-how, experience, and creativity that it takes to be a good mom. However, I would never admit a child of mine to a daycare ran by me. It's the atmosphere of daycare that puts my qualifications of "mothering" out the door: there's too many babies to diaper to give a second glance at the cooing face that I'm changing, and the kid who gets pushed down outside gets no kiss on the booboo-I'm too busy making sure the offense isn't repeated to another victim.
I was saddened when a mother came in to inspect the daycare to see if she wanted to enroll her children there. All of the fire alarms, food schedules, toy bins, and playground equipment were pointed out to her. It looked great to the eye, and excellent on paper. However, I just ached to show her what she couldn't see: "Please," I wanted to say, "please just spend four hours here with me on duty. The reality will push off what you see as being so 'good on paper.'"
Oh yes-I have grown to love the children I work with. But it's not the love that teaches morals, values, or true love. I'm not mom. I'm paid by the hour. But I am looking forward to the day when MY child will pay ME by the hour-with her dirty diapers, sticky kisses, and booboos to soothe.
Keep preaching for where praise is truly due, Dr. Laura.
J.
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