It's a given that:
- the minute I put lotion on my excessively washed and severely cracked hands someone will poop and I will have to wash them all over again.
- the same day that, out of desperation and a need to pay your mortgage, you accept the so-so family into care, the perfect family will contact you. Sadly you will be full.
- the day you plan your extra fun field trip one child will arrive without the appropriate gear.
- that just when you feel you can exhale at finally having a wonderful, well-behaved and transitioned group someone will announce they are pregnant.
- the one day that you, yourself, need a nap one kid will scream the entire duration of nap time.
- the week before you are set to go on your family vacation your daycare will be visited by the vomiting plague and you will live in perpetual fear for the next seven days.
- the one day you forget to tell Timmy's parents that he only has two diapers left is the same day he will have explosive crap up his backside seven times.
- if the city is snowed in parents will put on snow shoes and hire a dog sled team to ensure their child attends care while they go back home because it's too risky to drive into work.
- the day you have an appointment immediately after work is the same day one parent will show up late.
- if one kid vomits that is far from the end of chunky sitings in your near future.
- as soon as you get everyone outside at pick up time wearing their sandals, sunscreen, and nicely playing in the sandbox the potty-trainer will need to go back inside, dripping of sand to use the potty.
- the higher the number of open spots is directly proportional to the same lack of interest in your daycare.
- the more you give, the more they take.
- once double-barrelled snot (which has now been tasted by the tongue) is wiped from the nose it will slowly creep back down again like a slug on a merry journey to the promised land.
- the more time and effort you put into preparing lunch the less interested they are in eating it.
- the more times a child needs to be changed in a day the more buttons, clasps and belts they will be wearing.
- expensive toys are played with the least and cardboard will always remain the favourite.
And last but not least:
- there is never enough coffee or chocolate to get through the day!
For concerns, advice or suggestions I welcome your email at judytrickett@yahoo.ca
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
Age Is Not A Number It's An Insanity Predictor
Every person has preferences. We all have things we like and dislike, prefer or not prefer. Preferences are what make us individuals and different from one another. And, in daycare, like any other area of life daycare providers have preferences too.
Age preference is subject to the individual provider. Any provider might, at any given time, have different preferences with regard to the ages of children she cares for. I like all the ages but prefer to not have a mixed group. It is an all or nothing scenario with me. I simply do not have the patience or fortitude to deal with a mixed aged group of children.
Whenever I have an upcoming daycare opening I stress about the age of the child I am seeking out to fill that spot. There are pros and cons to each age group. The key is to figure out what age you need now, in the present, with regard to the group you currently care for.
Infants have definite plusses. They are sweet, unassuming and innocent. They demand little more than cuddles and regular feedings. All these attributes make them wonderful little souls; and then they cry. Oh, Lord! Is there anything worse than the inconsolable cry of an infant? Listen to those screams for a few hours and you will rethink their innocence!
Infants also sleep a lot. Day after day you are velcroed to your home because one child naps two or three times a day. You find yourself going haywire with cabin fever that even the crazy neighbour lady who complains about all your Little Tikes toys askew in your yard looks like an appealing tea time guest. And if you start to look forward to home time not to get rid of your charges but to fulfil your adult conversation quota then perhaps you might want to rethink the infant. Yes, infants are cute but they harbour a secret motivation of committing to insanity those who care for them.
Toddlers are my personal favourite age group. However, this little group holds its own difficulties. Yes, for the most part toddlers are not red-faced, forlorn little screamers but they know how to make you insane nonetheless. Is there anything more trying than answering the question, "what are you doing?" from the same child for the 576th time that day? Or how about their defiance in anything power driven? If you have ever knelt down face to face with a toddler who adamantly refuses to put on his shoes you know that size matters not in a battle of wills. Yes, little powerhouses that they are, Toddlers, can show you that heavy weight champs win because of mental stamina and not physical force.
School-aged kids are by far, the easiest group to care for in regard to the amount of work a daycare provider puts forth in the earning of her pay cheque. This age group comes with one deadly fault - their ability to form words and their comprehension of language. In short, they talk. And they talk, and they talk and they talk, talk, talk. And in their talking they relay their day. And no, I do not need the subject of their family dinner to be what websites their child saw me viewing while 'working' or the fact that I spent ten minutes on the phone and shushed them all to watch their after school cartoons. In short, I like working alone. I do not need a virtual army of adults monitoring my every move with their eight year old spy-like agent who can not remember to bring his backpack on the school run but can remember, in infinite detail, exactly how many loads of laundry I folded that day.
It seems that regardless of what age group a provider decides to service the work is the same. We will all find ourselves in the kitchen preparing more food than a short order cook. We will all have to listen to either screaming or talking and undoubtedly we will all come out a with a little less sanity than we started our journey with.
Now on to that Kijiji ad I have been meaning to put together. All I have to do is decide what my preference is.....screaming, questions or talking..........sigh.....maybe I'll just start a doggy daycare.
For concerns, advice or suggestions I welcome your email at judytrickett@yahoo.ca
Age preference is subject to the individual provider. Any provider might, at any given time, have different preferences with regard to the ages of children she cares for. I like all the ages but prefer to not have a mixed group. It is an all or nothing scenario with me. I simply do not have the patience or fortitude to deal with a mixed aged group of children.
Whenever I have an upcoming daycare opening I stress about the age of the child I am seeking out to fill that spot. There are pros and cons to each age group. The key is to figure out what age you need now, in the present, with regard to the group you currently care for.
Infants have definite plusses. They are sweet, unassuming and innocent. They demand little more than cuddles and regular feedings. All these attributes make them wonderful little souls; and then they cry. Oh, Lord! Is there anything worse than the inconsolable cry of an infant? Listen to those screams for a few hours and you will rethink their innocence!
Infants also sleep a lot. Day after day you are velcroed to your home because one child naps two or three times a day. You find yourself going haywire with cabin fever that even the crazy neighbour lady who complains about all your Little Tikes toys askew in your yard looks like an appealing tea time guest. And if you start to look forward to home time not to get rid of your charges but to fulfil your adult conversation quota then perhaps you might want to rethink the infant. Yes, infants are cute but they harbour a secret motivation of committing to insanity those who care for them.
Toddlers are my personal favourite age group. However, this little group holds its own difficulties. Yes, for the most part toddlers are not red-faced, forlorn little screamers but they know how to make you insane nonetheless. Is there anything more trying than answering the question, "what are you doing?" from the same child for the 576th time that day? Or how about their defiance in anything power driven? If you have ever knelt down face to face with a toddler who adamantly refuses to put on his shoes you know that size matters not in a battle of wills. Yes, little powerhouses that they are, Toddlers, can show you that heavy weight champs win because of mental stamina and not physical force.
School-aged kids are by far, the easiest group to care for in regard to the amount of work a daycare provider puts forth in the earning of her pay cheque. This age group comes with one deadly fault - their ability to form words and their comprehension of language. In short, they talk. And they talk, and they talk and they talk, talk, talk. And in their talking they relay their day. And no, I do not need the subject of their family dinner to be what websites their child saw me viewing while 'working' or the fact that I spent ten minutes on the phone and shushed them all to watch their after school cartoons. In short, I like working alone. I do not need a virtual army of adults monitoring my every move with their eight year old spy-like agent who can not remember to bring his backpack on the school run but can remember, in infinite detail, exactly how many loads of laundry I folded that day.
It seems that regardless of what age group a provider decides to service the work is the same. We will all find ourselves in the kitchen preparing more food than a short order cook. We will all have to listen to either screaming or talking and undoubtedly we will all come out a with a little less sanity than we started our journey with.
Now on to that Kijiji ad I have been meaning to put together. All I have to do is decide what my preference is.....screaming, questions or talking..........sigh.....maybe I'll just start a doggy daycare.
For concerns, advice or suggestions I welcome your email at judytrickett@yahoo.ca
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
The Loonie Bin Wins Every Time
I contribute to green house gases. This fact occurred to me yesterday after an exhausting hour of tallying up daycare expenses. It wasn't too hard to find and gather all the receipts. For the most part every receipt contained the words Walmart or Dollarama in blazing letters across the header. Receipt after receipt one thing became apparent - I single handily supported the gross domestic product of China last year.
I am curious how much petroleum was emitted not only in the production, but transport of these many small plastic items I depend upon for my lively hood. My daycare carbon footprint is far bigger than that left behind by my fuzzy boots, I am certain.
As I look around my house I wonder why it is I can't see mounds of plastic junk in every nook and cranny. If the receipts are accurate my house should contain approximately $890.00 worth of Dollarama merchandise and at least another $1208.00 of offerings courtesy of the Walton family. Hmmm....so where is all this stuff? Oh yeah, it's hanging from my walls in the vibrant craft clad decor of the playroom, stuffed in my craft closet and cubbie baskets. Bibs, construction paper, alphabet borders, books, toys, balls, and even kiddie-sized lawn chairs that sit in the reading nook are evident everywhere.
We should play a game with our daycare parents to convey to them exactly how much of that money they hand over to us goes right back to their child. For one year keep all those dried up bits of Play-doh. Put all the bits in a big old jar, seal it and then provide a ballot bin at your front door. Have parent guess how many tubs of Play-Doh are in the jar. I think they would be shocked to know that last year I forked over $87.00 for formable germ traps that end up as crusty and dry as the snot under their childrens' noses. $87.00 - that's $7.25 a month! Wow, who knew?
I won't even get started on the amount of money I spent at Walmart for copy paper and online for printer toner. It is enough money to make me nauseous just thinking about it. Great, kill trees AND contribute to global warming. It seems I can't win.
Perhaps I will start a new niche market for daycare - organic crafts and activities. We could play kick the tightly rolled up diaper or get naked and finger paint each other rather than paper. Instead of Play-doh we will eat pizza every single day and the kids can use the dough first and then bake its remnants. Or maybe we could all go out and beg the neighbours to provide us with small pieces of charred wood from their fireplaces to use as sidewalk chalk. We could be little environmentalists.
And the parent who wins the count the Play-doh contest? Next year they get to do my taxes for me. It would not only be a lesson but save me the aggravation and guilt at killing the planet while caring for their kids. I can't win. If I cease my frequent Dollarama trips some poor mom in China won't be able to put food on the table for her kids next week.
I guess that kick the loaded diaper is out. Back to beading and Play-doh and plastic building blocks. It's a good thing too. I didn't really want to clean up after five finger painted kids anyway.
For concerns, advice or suggestions I welcome your email at judytrickett@yahoo.ca
I am curious how much petroleum was emitted not only in the production, but transport of these many small plastic items I depend upon for my lively hood. My daycare carbon footprint is far bigger than that left behind by my fuzzy boots, I am certain.
As I look around my house I wonder why it is I can't see mounds of plastic junk in every nook and cranny. If the receipts are accurate my house should contain approximately $890.00 worth of Dollarama merchandise and at least another $1208.00 of offerings courtesy of the Walton family. Hmmm....so where is all this stuff? Oh yeah, it's hanging from my walls in the vibrant craft clad decor of the playroom, stuffed in my craft closet and cubbie baskets. Bibs, construction paper, alphabet borders, books, toys, balls, and even kiddie-sized lawn chairs that sit in the reading nook are evident everywhere.
We should play a game with our daycare parents to convey to them exactly how much of that money they hand over to us goes right back to their child. For one year keep all those dried up bits of Play-doh. Put all the bits in a big old jar, seal it and then provide a ballot bin at your front door. Have parent guess how many tubs of Play-Doh are in the jar. I think they would be shocked to know that last year I forked over $87.00 for formable germ traps that end up as crusty and dry as the snot under their childrens' noses. $87.00 - that's $7.25 a month! Wow, who knew?
I won't even get started on the amount of money I spent at Walmart for copy paper and online for printer toner. It is enough money to make me nauseous just thinking about it. Great, kill trees AND contribute to global warming. It seems I can't win.
Perhaps I will start a new niche market for daycare - organic crafts and activities. We could play kick the tightly rolled up diaper or get naked and finger paint each other rather than paper. Instead of Play-doh we will eat pizza every single day and the kids can use the dough first and then bake its remnants. Or maybe we could all go out and beg the neighbours to provide us with small pieces of charred wood from their fireplaces to use as sidewalk chalk. We could be little environmentalists.
And the parent who wins the count the Play-doh contest? Next year they get to do my taxes for me. It would not only be a lesson but save me the aggravation and guilt at killing the planet while caring for their kids. I can't win. If I cease my frequent Dollarama trips some poor mom in China won't be able to put food on the table for her kids next week.
I guess that kick the loaded diaper is out. Back to beading and Play-doh and plastic building blocks. It's a good thing too. I didn't really want to clean up after five finger painted kids anyway.
For concerns, advice or suggestions I welcome your email at judytrickett@yahoo.ca
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Fashion-Free Zone
I am the epitome of the death of fashion. I realized recently while outlet shopping that I have not a single strand of fashion DNA. I watched the other ladies in the store searching through racks of clothing for that perfect item, that specific pair of knee-high boots, correctly fitted blouses and hip-hugger jeans. I stood there in awe of their appearance; designer jeans, this year's footwear fashion and perfectly kept highlighted hair and nails. When I passed by a mirror I was horrified at my reflection. My minds started to play the song, "One of these things is not like the others...". Yep, there I was looking just like.........a daycare provider.
The entire reason I was in that outlet store was to find and purchase a pair of jeans. I had recently wore out the butt of my favourite pair. Yes, one day, while getting off the playroom floor I felt the thread bare fabric give a sigh of exhaustion and expose my panties to the daycare kids who thought it all very hilarious. I think I might have actually shed a tear. Those were my favourite pants. Just the perfect fit. Not to tight, not to lose. Comfortable enough to spend all day romping around the house wearing. Ugh.
My husband asked me later that night why my jeans were in the garbage. When I explained to him why he couldn't understand how anyone could possibly wear out the backside of their pants. It was then that I sighed and decided to save my breath than to explain.
I don't know about you but I spend a lot of time on my butt. I sit on the playroom floor building Lego towers, reading stories and playing Barbie. And when movement across the floor is required I shuffle by fat ass along the surface to engage the next child. Yes, I skid. And skidding is not conducive to the prolonged wear of denim. Got buttons on your jean pockets? Not me...I pop those suckers off on the floor within a week of purchase. Yes, I am a walking fashion nightmare.
My other most worn wardrobe item is T-shirts. I have a lot of T-shirts. Hey, snot stains silk and cotton blouses make me look like a wrinkled potato bag before morning snack time so T-shirts it is. And every single one of them has a small hole at sink level within a month of their maiden daycare voyage. All day I walk around with a round,wet area right about the height of my navel from the crazy number of times I wash my hands, prepare a snack or clean something up - all requiring water.
As for footwear? I can not pretend to be any more fashionable when it comes to my feet than the rest of my body. My winter boots keep me warm, not beautiful. I'm sure anyone who comes across my winter foot prints assumes Yeti to be in the area. Yep, they are huge and fuzzy inside but I can chase down Michelin-Men toddlers in a flash and my toes are never cold. Who needs tiny, slender, heeled, leather boots that scrunch up your toes anyway?
My favourite socks are fuzzy and pink. The daycare kids think they're a hoot. No doubt half of the well-kept and made up moms who drop of their kids in the morning shake their heads and wonder about me a little. Or maybe they're just irritated by those scrunched up toes stuffed in their fashionable boots.
So, as I stood there in the outlet store check out line I was happy with my purchases. Sure, they were all T-shirts and jeans but they were new and lacked holes and actually had fabric on the ass. And to the trendy women standing behind me with their cutsie blouses and linen pants - yep, those probably were red daisies on my underwear you could faintly make out under my worn jeans. Hey, I'm a daycare provider and thankfully I care more about your kids than my clothes. And I'm okay with that.
For concerns, advice or suggestions I welcome your email at judytrickett@yahoo.ca
The entire reason I was in that outlet store was to find and purchase a pair of jeans. I had recently wore out the butt of my favourite pair. Yes, one day, while getting off the playroom floor I felt the thread bare fabric give a sigh of exhaustion and expose my panties to the daycare kids who thought it all very hilarious. I think I might have actually shed a tear. Those were my favourite pants. Just the perfect fit. Not to tight, not to lose. Comfortable enough to spend all day romping around the house wearing. Ugh.
My husband asked me later that night why my jeans were in the garbage. When I explained to him why he couldn't understand how anyone could possibly wear out the backside of their pants. It was then that I sighed and decided to save my breath than to explain.
I don't know about you but I spend a lot of time on my butt. I sit on the playroom floor building Lego towers, reading stories and playing Barbie. And when movement across the floor is required I shuffle by fat ass along the surface to engage the next child. Yes, I skid. And skidding is not conducive to the prolonged wear of denim. Got buttons on your jean pockets? Not me...I pop those suckers off on the floor within a week of purchase. Yes, I am a walking fashion nightmare.
My other most worn wardrobe item is T-shirts. I have a lot of T-shirts. Hey, snot stains silk and cotton blouses make me look like a wrinkled potato bag before morning snack time so T-shirts it is. And every single one of them has a small hole at sink level within a month of their maiden daycare voyage. All day I walk around with a round,wet area right about the height of my navel from the crazy number of times I wash my hands, prepare a snack or clean something up - all requiring water.
As for footwear? I can not pretend to be any more fashionable when it comes to my feet than the rest of my body. My winter boots keep me warm, not beautiful. I'm sure anyone who comes across my winter foot prints assumes Yeti to be in the area. Yep, they are huge and fuzzy inside but I can chase down Michelin-Men toddlers in a flash and my toes are never cold. Who needs tiny, slender, heeled, leather boots that scrunch up your toes anyway?
My favourite socks are fuzzy and pink. The daycare kids think they're a hoot. No doubt half of the well-kept and made up moms who drop of their kids in the morning shake their heads and wonder about me a little. Or maybe they're just irritated by those scrunched up toes stuffed in their fashionable boots.
So, as I stood there in the outlet store check out line I was happy with my purchases. Sure, they were all T-shirts and jeans but they were new and lacked holes and actually had fabric on the ass. And to the trendy women standing behind me with their cutsie blouses and linen pants - yep, those probably were red daisies on my underwear you could faintly make out under my worn jeans. Hey, I'm a daycare provider and thankfully I care more about your kids than my clothes. And I'm okay with that.
For concerns, advice or suggestions I welcome your email at judytrickett@yahoo.ca
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