Daycare Can Shove It

Wednesday.  I was at home.  Normally, I have Thursdays off, but my child has the poops.

 

 
I got a phone call from Baby L's daycare Tuesday saying he had three loose stools within an hour, therefore he needed to go home, per their rules.  He has no fever, he is in good spirits.  In addition to that, he would not be allowed to return on Wednesday, for fear that what is affecting his tummy may be transmissible to the other children.  Sure, I could guess that makes sense.  However, Monday, they fed my child baked beans.  Baked freaking beans.  No wonder his guts are torn up!!

So, needless to say, I picked my child up from daycare and we went home to watch the live adaptation of Grease that was on TV not too long ago that I recorded.  Baby L loves the music and he loves dancing to it.  It's freaking adorable.

It's such a pretty day, we went to the park.  Played on the swings for like, an hour, walked around the duck pond, pointed out all of the "Na Nav's" and all around had a great day.  Baby L pooped twice.  All day.  So, I pretty much missed out on a days worth of work so spend some great quality time with the man.  It was wonderful.  He was a happy camper, I was a happy camper.  Worked out perfectly.

So, onto the reason for this post, I suppose.  I've been thinking about daycare a lot lately.  I mean, it is ridiculously expensive.  When my pregnancy was close to being over, we did our due diligence with researching local schools, checking out a few different places, trying to budget money.  We ended up with one that is close to work, so bonus for when I wanted to visit my newborn on my lunch break.  Said daycare was a smidgen more expensive than others, but seemed totally worth it.  The teachers were articulate, they wore shoes (which seems pretty much like a given, but we learned that .. no, not so much.), they even had a uniform of sorts with all of the teachers wearing a smock.  They had structured classroom schedules and would give us a little report at the end of the day tallying how much your child ate, how many times he pooped his pants, etc.  Pretty legit place.  We've been using them for close to two years now, and I have come to the conclusion that I am in the WRONG industry.  They HAVE to be making money hand over fist in that place.  Not even counting the weekly "tuition" that we have to pay, but they nickel and dime the ever living crap out of us.  (see what I did there, with the "crap" joke??)  $50 "supply fee" due every August, oh look, if you are a teacher and want to not bring your child in for the summer months then just pay this "reservation fee" and we will gladly take Junior back in August, but oh hey, this "reservation fee" isn't going to go towards the tuition once he returns, it'll just go into our pocket.  (Granted, I'm not a teacher, so this doesn't apply to me, but you can get the picture.)  "Oh, it's Thanksgiving coming up, so we are going to be closed Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday also for good measure.  What's that you're thinking?  Oh, you think you'll only have to pay 2 days worth of tuition, well, that's hysterical for you to think that, because you're wrong!! You still have to pay us for the entire week!!"

It's a complete racket!  They even had the nerve to send out an email last Christmas saying they couldn't afford to give everybody a Christmas bonus, so if every family just donated $50, then they could provide everybody with the raise they deserve.  Bullshit!! I'll give my son's teacher a coffee mug with a candle in it and call it a fucking day!  I'm not forking over ANOTHER fifty bucks, when you are probably laying out crisp $100 bills on your pillow every night so you can sleep on them.  

Basically, daycare has me over a barrel.  I work so I can help pay our bills.  If I didn't work, we would lose half of our monthly income (duh).  One of my checks covers a month of daycare.  So, one of my paychecks goes to bills.  This is with one child.  Add another into the mix, and I would basically work to put my kids in daycare.  I don't want money to interfere with my dreams of having another child, but holy fucking hell, daycare is expensive.  Can I be a stay-at-home-mom?  Probably.  I'd like to think I'd be June Cleaver, but we all know I'd probably become Lorena Bobbitt.  

I need to win the lottery.  The money kind, not the rock kind.  I have enough rocks, thank you.  

I don't have a title for this post.  I am not entirely sure I know what I plan on talking about.  It's Valentine's day, in case you were unaware.  Valentine's Day.  You know, I'm not entirely sure I know the history of why this day is this day, but what I do know is how vastly different V-Day is post-children than it was not 3 years ago.

This day used to be about getting dressed up in clothes that I was super uncomfortable in, wear shoes that pinched my toes, have a pair of "underwear" on that could be deemed cruel and unusual punishment by at least 10 states (noticed the " "'s.  I'm not sure this undergarment could pass as real clothing...)  I would go out with my husband, we'd wine and dine ourselves silly, quite possibly see a movie, I'd get flowers or chocolate, he'd get some gifts of his own, and we'd wake up the next morning and go right back to work.

Fast forward a few years, add in a toddler to the mix, and you'd need an abacus to help you count the differences.  It's needless to mention that money is tight.  Tighter than getting plants allows.  Even if they smell nice.  Who needs plants?  Today was like any other Sunday, pretty much.  Husband brought me an egg sandwich and coffee this morning, I showered, put on jeans and a t-shirt, we woke the child up, went grocery shopping, put said child to nap, watched DVR, and here it is, 5:00, and I am currently wearing an overly large tee, sleeping shorts, and underwear that would make my grandmother proud.  I may have a glass of wine to my left, but otherwise, this is my now V-Day.  Baby L is watching Dinotrucks on Netflix, Husband is cooking up a pretty fabulous smelling dinner after he decided today is a good day to bathe the dogs.  (We have a corgi... 'nuff said.)  The thing is, I wouldn't change a damn thing.  Today was amazing.  I would so much rather be with my family, in comfortable clothes, barefoot, drinking wine that doesn't break the bank per glass, waiting on what I know will be a delicious meal, than have to put on a show out in the world.  Much less wait an hour for a meal that quite honestly, isn't worth the money spent.   I won't have to tip the waiter, I won't have to worry about my babysitter sneaking her boyfriend over for some nookie on my couch.  Sure, I didn't get flowers today.  Flowers die.  I have the unwavering loyalty and love from my family, and that is something I could never, nor will I ever sacrifice or let go.  

I'm neglecting to mention that we did indeed celebrate V-Day.  As a family, we took our Monster to the Aquarium yesterday.  We got there early so we could leave once it got busy.  And let me tell you, it got busy,  I have a thing against crowds, much less adding in a toddler that just wants to run around all of the exhibits paying no heed to the people he's forcing his mom to weave around as she tried to catch him.  It's awesome that we are beginning to be able to experience these types of things with Baby L.  When they are so small, you're super paranoid about taking your baby around strangers or you're worried about how said child would handle the stimulation.  That was us.  Totally and one hundred percent.  Now, we are taking quick trips to different venues.  We went to the Zoo back in October.  Success.  Last weekend was a traveling fair-type event called Jurassic Quest.  Success.  This weekend, then Aquarium.  Success.  Now, if we could only make it through grocery shopping without losing our shit when we see a balloon, that'd be a perfect scenario  (yes, I may be talking about today at the grocery store with all of the Valentine's Day balloons at every. single. register.)

Would I do it all over again?  Hell yes.  In fact, I plan on it.  I want more kids.  Sure, Baby L. keeps me on my toes, but he's making me a better person.  Before baby, I sped, I cut people off, I wouldn't hesitate prior to ringing my neighbors doorbell at 6 in the morning because she parked so close to my car that I couldn't get into it (I will admit, I dinked the ever living shit out of her door getting in, whoops.).  I'm more positive.  I'm happier.  I am more loving and open about my feelings.  I do it all for him.  And Husband.  Him too.