I'm mean. There I said it. No doubt I will find a few people who browse this blog to agree with that statement. Now those people have a certifiable reason to hate me. That's okay, as I have said many, many times, "popularity is highly overrated".
I must clarify that I don't really think I am mean. However, when asking the kids in my care you would find that they do in fact think I am mean. And I can only assume their parents, should they be a fly on the wall of my home, would concur with the sentiment of their children. Yes, Judy is mean, mean, mean.
Today I sent a child to time out. Why? Because yesterday I found little itty bitty bits of torn kleenex all over my playroom. I couldn't figure it out for the life of me. Every time I entered the playroom the bits were there. I cleaned them up and amazingly, if I left and returned so did the bits. It was a mystery - until today. Today I see little Johnny pull a travel sized pack of kleenex from his pocket. Of course, being the incredibly smart woman I am I managed to rub two brain cells together and asked little Johnny to hand over that pack of kleenex. Johnny had other ideas.
As is the case in many situations in daycare I ask and then I tell. So, there we were, little Johnny throwing a fit that could rival the best UFC fighter, and myself feeling my blood pressure rise with every kick of his feet. To the crying corner, young man. And you can stay there until you have stopped the nonsense of acting like an animal. Thirty minutes later Johnny was still in that corner. Some people would call that mean. I call that carrying out a promise or, teaching children that their actions have consequences. If you continue to scream and cry then you choose to continue to sit in the crying corner. No loss to me. I still got to play.
One has to wonder however, why it is that Johnny assumes that crying harder and longer will produce a daycare provider with the pack of kleenex. He certainly has not learned that here with big old mean me. Oh, but therein lies the problem! I am the mean guy because I am guessing the entire reason he had the pack of kleenex in his pocket was because mom gave into his crying. I guess mom's not mean. Sigh....when will they learn?
When will we stop being friends with children and instead be the adults they so badly need in their lives? They will have plenty of friends when they are older who will support them in things far worse than kleenex destruction. Their future friends will support them in under aged drinking, drugs, and sex. Where will we be then? I can guarantee that had we been their friend during their childhood we will have absolutely no ability to guide and advise them with any affect when they most need it in their lives. It all starts with the pack of kleenex and the ability to say "No" and be hated momentarily for that two-lettered word.
Yes, I am mean. I am a mean kleenex taking daycare provider. I am the mean lady who sends you to time out when you are disrespectful toward others and yourself. I am the mean lady who realizes it's not really about kleenex. And I'm okay with that.
When little Johnny arrives tomorrow with yet another pack of kleenex I will take it again. And, undoubtedly he will revisit the crying corner. So kick and scream and cry little Johnny. Better to cry now and learn than cry later and pay a price far higher than lost play time.
I'm Judy and I'm mean. I'm okay with that.
For concerns, advice or suggestions I welcome your email at judytrickett@yahoo.ca
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