Daycare is not a bad place.

My daughter's last day at her childcare center was last week.  I found myself surprisingly sad on that day, even though I'm looking forward to our family's new adventures.  (For those of you who don't know, Norman Public Schools contracts some Pre-K teachers to teach at childcare centers in the city.  I have accepted a job doing this for the 2014-2015 school year.  Technically, I'll be teaching public school, but I'll be offsite, and Piper will stay next door to my classroom at the childcare center.)  So far, she has adjusted well to her new setting, but I secretly shed a few tears as we walked out the doors of the center where she has been since she was seven weeks old.

Some people see daycare as a detriment to children.  While I do not believe that every childcare center is quality or that just anyone can be trusted to care for kids who don't belong to them, I have seen first-hand that this is not the case everywhere.  Also, I am a firm believer in families carefully choosing the best, most well-informed option for their own family and realizing that their choice should not be imposed upon everyone else's family as a rule.  For our family, my daughter's daycare has been a blessing beyond what I can even describe.  Financially speaking, I need to work, and personally speaking, my work gives me a sense of fulfillment and makes me a better mom.  Our situation isn't for everyone, but having Piper just down the hall from me in trusting hands has been ideal.  She has blossomed at her center.  Her development and character are ultimately my responsibility, but her teachers have partnered with us to help her become the spunky, curious, sweet, smart, and loving one-year-old that she is.

Teaching (notice that I said teaching, not babysitting) at a childcare center requires skill.  I recently heard on the radio that the average four-year-old asks 400 questions per day.  Even though Piper doesn't ask questions (yet!), she does poop her diaper, fuss, refuse to take naps, spit her food out, destroy things, and engage in other similar sorts of mischief, as do all seven other babies in her class.  Not only are her teachers simultaneously dealing with all of this times eight, they are also teaching the children to be kind, to play with toys appropriately, and to make good choices.  At times, I am impatient with my only child.  Piper's teachers perhaps become impatient with her, too, but they do not show it to her or to any of the other babies in her class.  And people say that anyone could do their job(?!).

Though I pay for Piper's childcare, payment alone does not entitle me to quality care.  Yes, Piper's teachers are required by law to check her diaper every hour and change her when necessary.  Yes, they must make sure that their classroom never exceeds the established student-teacher ratio.  Yes, they have to feed her certain foods at given times.  They didn't have to bend over backward when Piper had a rough adjustment to my return to full-time employment in January.  They didn't have to read with her, hug her as I dropped her off the in mornings, or volunteer to babysit her outside of school hours.  They didn't have to love her.  But they did, and they did those parts for free.    

Piper will never remember Miss Barbara, Miss Sierra, Miss Shawn, Miss Kelsey, Miss Amy, Miss Ashlee, or Miss Madison, but I will.  Our family is forever indebted to these ladies who have made it possible for me to leave Piper for a few hours each day, knowing that she will be happy.  If your child attends a daycare, hug her teacher.  Daycare workers do a big job.

Piper's letter and shoes "for her new adventures" from her teacher on her last day