Daycare during a pandemic is really hard. We’re not allowed in the building, and we’re not supposed to chat with the teachers when we pick up or drop off. That leaves us knowing very little about what goes on in the classrooms. I used to know the name of every kid in the room, and would spend 10-15 minutes in the room when I picked E&G up. Checking how many diapers they had, if they needed a change of clothes, picking up their artwork, but also seeing how the room functioned and getting to know the teachers. I could see who E&G were friends with, how they interacted in the room, and I felt like I knew what was going on.
All that’s gone now, of course. We get pictures and daily reports, but it’s not quite the same. I have to rely on what E&G tell me directly, which is partial information at best.
I picked G up the other day, and he was chatting away to me, talking about the white car he saw, and some artwork he could see hanging in another room. When we got to E’s room, there was another family already doing pick up, so I was busy trying to distract G from the fact he didn’t get to ring the classroom bell. E came flying out showing me some artwork and the teacher in the doorway shouted out the standard “He had a great day!” before another teacher stuck her head out and said “No he didn’t! He didn’t have his listening ears on all day! He almost got away without me telling his parents!!” and then laughed and shut the door. That was the extent of my report.
Pick up is chaotic enough with trying to gather jackets and artwork and masks into the bag I bring with me, so I let the comment slide, as the kids took off towards the playground. We have an agreement that they can run up to the playground and play with the musical instruments on the side of it, but they’re not allowed to play on or under it. Partly because it’s the kindergarten playground and I can’t be chasing G around it by myself, and partly because we are trying to get home and we don’t have a ton of time. G ran up and made some music, and then ran back to grab my hand like we do every day. E, however, ran under the playground and wouldn’t come out. I called for him to follow us, and started walking away towards the gate with G. Normally that’s enough to make E follow us, but not this day.
G and I doubled back, and I managed to grab E’s hand, but then he did every parent’s nightmare and went limp on me. G thought his big brother was being hilarious and decided to copy him. Which left me holding two hands with limp children attached to them. And don’t forget I’m pregnant and already out of breath, because of course I am.
I decided to pick E up, since I figured he was the root of the problem and hoped that G would start walking. Well that left me with two crying children because E did not want to be picked up, but now that G knew that was an option, he very much wanted to be carried. I sighed and switched children, because all I wanted to do was get to the car, and headed off as best I could.
I’m glad that this daycare is a safe and secure facility, but unfortunately that also means that I still had four gates to open between where we were and the car, all without a free hand since one was carrying G, and the other had a death grip on E since he was ready to bolt again. It was a struggle, one that made me question my sanity of having three kids, but we managed to get to the car. I got G in his car seat, and when I tried to get E in his, he dove for the trunk. He wouldn’t come when I asked him to, instead he was focusing on a snow brush he found in the trunk.
It was in that moment where I had to make a decision. I could yell or threaten, I could climb in after him and grab him, or I could take a step back. Which is what I did. I asked him how he was feeling and how his day was, and then I saw it. His bottom lip started to shake a bit. I told him I could tell he had a hard day and was a bit sad about it. I asked if he wanted a hug or wanted to tell me about it. He put down the brush, and started walking towards me.
I got him to climb into his car seat and start talking. A whole story started to spill out as he was crying. I couldn’t really make sense of it, but something about a puzzle he wanted to do but wasn’t able to, and a center he wanted to play at but was told no “because the teachers said E was bad today!” And on and on. He was so sad. I could see the weight of everything he held in start to come out. He kept telling me he was so tired and his teachers were so mean, and it was obvious how sad he was.
I know his teachers wanted me to give him a lecture about listening while at daycare, but I felt like he had already learned those actions had consequences. What he needed in that moment was someone to listen to him about how hard his day was, and comfort him. It didn’t automatically flip the switch – the rest of the night wasn’t a piece of cake, but we did eat dinner outside so he had an opportunity to run around and scream and yell and get some feelings out. And when he went to sleep that night, he slept HARD. Often he’s up early in the morning, before his alarm clock goes off, but the next morning he slept in.
And he had a great day at daycare the next day. We got a good report from his teachers, and he came out to greet me smiling and happy. He held my hand and walked nicely beside me all the way to the car.
Some days are just hard days, where nothing goes the way you want it to, and you end up feeling sad and tired. I have those days, so why wouldn’t I expect my children to have them too?
