Finding Childcare (part 1)

Today is Wednesday. Do you know what that means? It means it’s time for the Working Wednesday series. That’s a series I just made up right now about working moms. See how clever I am. Maybe I’ll even make a clever banner for next week. We’ll see.

So anyway, I’ve been thinking (hey, I think sometimes), I’m a working mom, but I rarely write about it. I’m sure I must have some tiny bits of wisdom I can can share. [And at the very least it gives me something to blog about on Wednesdays...because it's really all about me.]

So here we go. The first week of Working Wednesday we are going to discuss childcare.

When I was pregnant with Keaton I went on a search for the perfect daycare center. I was only twenty-years-old so I didn’t really know anybody who did daycare. Everybody I knew was on the countdown for their 21st birthdays and went out drinking every night.

I was looking for some place that was clean, had nice people who knew CPR and was fairly cheap. I was looking for a permanent job, but at the time I was working through a temporary agency so money was an issue. I called a local agency that helps you find daycare in the area. They sent me a list of daycare centers, home daycare providers and some additional information about what to look for in a daycare and what questions to ask when you went for a visit.

I scoured that list for daycare centers near my home. With questions in hand I started to call around to see who had openings. Several of the daycare centers were full with long waiting lists and I was only a few months from having a baby. Cleary I didn’t start my search soon enough.

Finally I found a place that had an opening and I scheduled a visit. The second I walked through the door I knew there was no way I was going to leave my baby there. The floors were filthy. The place smelled like dirty diapers. I wanted to turn around and run like hell. No wonder they had openings.

I decided to open my search to places that were a little farther from home.

The second place I visited looked nice at first. The place was clean. The kids looked happy. The teachers seemed cheerful. But then we made our way in to the room where the kids slept. The room with all the cribs. The cribs looked fine until you looked inside the crib. They didn’t have mattresses. Instead they had what looked like very thin foam pads covered with a makeshift crib sheet. Only the crib sheets were apparently made for doll beds because they were too small for the foam pad. The pads were curled up in each corner. I took one look at that bed and thought, “There is no way in hell my baby is sleeping in that death trap.”

So far the search for cheap quality daycare was not going well. I was starting to think I was going to have to find a job that would let me take my baby to work with me.

After a few more visits I finally found a place I liked. They had a huge room for the infants to play in. There was nice carpet on the floor for them to crawl on. The cribs had actual crib mattresses in them and mobiles hanging from the side. They had a few swings for the babies to chill in. They had nice high chairs that didn’t look like something that should be on the recall list. And it looked very clean. I talked with quite a few of the teachers and they were all very nice. The best part was…it was only $90 a week. [I'll give those of you who pay $200 a week for one child a moment to pick your chin up from the floor.]

I was in heaven. This was the place for my baby.

But there was one catch. They didn’t have any openings. I would have to go on the waiting list. This was the only place I had found that I felt comfortable sending my baby to all day. I had to get in.

Six weeks after Keaton was born I was still on the waiting list. I was broke and had to go back to work. I finally got a permanent job I was going to start in two weeks and I was scared I wouldn’t be able to start because I had no daycare.

But then a miracle happened. Somebody moved and a spot opened up for Keaton. I was so excited. I’m pretty sure I cried.

That daycare was such a great place. Keaton loved it there. He made friends he still has today there. The teachers loved him and were so good to him. I never had to worry about him while he was there. Except for a year when I had to pull him out (which will be part 2) due to losing my job, Keaton went there from eight-weeks-old until the day before he started kindergarten. He learned to write his name there, when he was just three-years-old. He also learned to read simple words before his fifth birthday. I couldn’t have asked for a better place for my son to spend the first five years of his life.

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