A Snotty, Pretty Mess

So, next week is my first week back at work.

(sob, snort, hiccup, sob, sob, hiccup, snort)

I have been preparing for this week since the Beanie got here.   Well, preparing/dreading/trying desperately to avoid.   Whatever.

Anyway, so the week has finally arrived.   I think what I am worried the most about is that on Monday I’m going to drop him off and Beanie won’t know anyone and he’ll think that I’ve abandoned him with strangers.   How scary!!!   So to prevent this terrible feeling of panic in Beanie, I called his daycare today to see if I could bring him in for half days this Thursday and Friday in preparation for Monday. This means that Beanie actually starts daycare this week.

(sob, hiccup, snort, snort, sob, hiccup)

So this morning I’m on the phone with the owner of the daycare and I’m asking what time I should bring Beanie by on Thursday and before I know what’s happening – I’m sobbing.   ON THE PHONE.   I mean really sobbing.   Like, I can’t form words.   The wonderful owner of the daycare confirmed why I chose this daycare by saying sweetly, “Its okay.   This happens sometimes on the phone with new moms.”   And then she went on to tell me that I could stay with Beanie as long as I wanted on Thursday until I felt comfortable leaving him.

I didn’t tell her on the phone, but I’m N-E-V-E-R leaving.

Needless to say, I was pretty traumatized by the time I got off the phone so I thought I’d call my sister and see if she could cheer me up.   I’ve mentioned before that Ginny recently left a high-profile, fast-paced, successful, I-can-kick-your-butt career in PR to move to a small town in Virginia with her fiance.   She is now teaching preschool to 3-year-olds and is getting used to her new life.

Apparently, she was having an off-day when I called her because she proceeded to tell me about how much she hates working at a daycare.   And I quote:

“What’s wrong with these snot-nosed kids?   What is so freaking hard to understand about ‘Stand in line like a soldier?’   I mean – everyone knows how soldiers stand!   What do they not get about ‘Put your hand on your hip and your finger over your lips?’   I mean, really!   What is SO DAMN HARD ABOUT THAT!!??!?!?”

“…And you know what they think is fun?   Banging cups on the table.   Banging cups, Katie.   So, I go up to this one kid and I say, ‘Hey!   What is so fun about banging a stupid cup?’ and you know what she does?   She laughs and starts banging TWO cups!   HOW IS THAT FUN?!?!?”

“The crackheads in the four-year-old room spit their juice.   Spit their juice.   WHY??!??!?!?”

“At one point I seriously considered throwing them out the window.   Or jumping out myself.   I mean – they aren’t even potty-trained, Katie.   They show up with Pull-Ups and they think they are big kids.   No.   Big kids pee in toilets.   You are wearing disposable underwear.   You are not a grown up.”

By the time Ginny calmed down from her rant, I was almost in tears again.   Was this the kind of person working in Beanie’s daycare?   Was this what would be caring for him all day?

Thankfully, my sister assured me that the answer to both those questions is no.   Which is why she is looking for another job.   Maybe she isn’t meant to care for small children.   In fact, its probably best if Ginny finds a job which keeps her out of contact with all living beings for a while…

Meanwhile, I’ll try to block that conversation out of my head and instead I will tell myself that Beanie will be cared for by a room full of young, cute, happy, glowing, singing Mary Poppins groupies and that when I drop him off at daycare he will have so much fun that he won’t even notice I’m gone.

(sob, hiccup, sob, snort, hiccup, sob)