Thursday, September 29, 2011

Mama Bear Came Out Today

I lost my cool today.

School is closed for a holiday, so I had ALL of my daycare kids here today...including my school-ager, "A".  Most of you already know this, but I'm just going to bite the bullet, risk getting flamed, and put this out there...I cannot stand A.

I love kids, always have.  I love every one of the kids who comes to my daycare and I've loved every one of the kids I've had in daycare centers since I started working right out of college.  But something about A just rubs me the wrong way.  I won't get into specifics here, but suffice it to say my days go a lot more smoothly and are much more enjoyable when he is not here.  I am a happier person and a better daycare provider when he is not here  Which brings me to the reason for this post.

A constantly brings toys from home.  Technically, I don't have a "no toys from home" rule, but I do have a rule about sharing, and that is that all of the kids MUST share all of the toys, whether they are toys they brought from home or toys that were already here.  This goes for Bailey, too, even though most of the toys actually belong to her.  A brought two toys and a Nintendo DS today, and is notorious for not sharing (he's 6 years old, and the babies behave better and are more socially advanced than he is).  I had a talk with him this morning and reminded him that if he was going to play with the toys he brought from home that he was also going to have to share those toys or they would need to be put away.  He knows this rule, it is nothing new to him.

Not five minutes later, I take the toys away because he wouldn't let anyone look at them much less play with them.

The rest of the day goes pretty much as I'd expected it to with him here.  Yes, I was a meanie and I made him take a nap.  After they all woke up from nap and had a snack, he seemed to play fairly well with the other kids.  So when most of the kids had gone home and it was just him, Bailey and one other kid here, I went against my better judgment and let him take the toys out again with the reminder that they be shared.

Of course, Bailey sees the toys and wants to play with them.  They're new, they're cool, and they're much more appealing to her at this point than the same puzzles and books she plays with day in and day out.  She reaches for a toy and I see A start to freak out.  He catches me watching him and gives the toy to Bailey, all fake smiles and sweetness.  They're still playing fine a few minutes later and I've had 3 cups of coffee in 2 hours and needed a bathroom break.  So up I went.

Those of you who know the set-up of our house know that the kids play right in the front room and my bathroom is literally at the top of the stairs.  I closed the baby gate at the bottom of the stairs and left the bathroom door open so I could hear them clearly.  I was gone about 2 minutes (I like to take my time, but I know better than to dilly dally when there are kids downstairs!) and during that time I hear Bailey cry--an angry cry, not a hurt cry.  I finish up and come back downstairs.

Our stairs are carpeted so, even though I wasn't trying to be quiet, A didn't hear me come down the stairs.  I get to our landing just in time to watch him knock Bailey (15 months old and considerably smaller than A) flat on her ass, throw his arm over her chest, pin her to the ground, and yank the toy out of her hand.  she whacked her head on the edge of the wooden toy box on her way down.

I LOST MY SHIT.

I'm not proud to admit this, but I completely lost it. I yelled and I very, very rarely yell when it comes to daycare.  I yelled at him to sit in the chair and that he had to stay there until his dad came to pick him up (in an hour).  I yelled that from now on he would walk in my door in the morning and sit in that chair until it was time to leave for school.  And that when he comes back after school he will sit in that chair until it is time to go home.  I yelled that he is no longer allowed to bring any toys into my house and that he may not play with any of the other toys in this house...all he is allowed to do when he is here is sit in that chair. 

This may seem harsh, but he's only here a total of 2 1/2-3 hours a day, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let him spend that time being nasty to the little ones.  I'll also confess that when I yelled I told him he was a bully and a little punk, and I felt like telling his parents he wasn't allowed to come to my house anymore.  I also yelled that if he EVER touched my daughter again, I'd boot him out of my house so fast his head would spin, and that he absolutely would not be welcome back here.

He couldn't have cared less.  He climbed right up on the chair, refused to look at me, refused to talk to me, and wouldn't apologize to Bailey for treating her like an opponent in the wrestling ring.  As a daycare provider, I'm angry that I have to keep such a close eye on A and that I have to continually remind him of the rules and how to act with the younger kids--he's 6 years old, for goodness sake, and he knows better.  As a mother, I think he's a little shit and if I didn't like his parents so much I'd have booted his punk-ass out of here months ago.

Would I have reacted the same way if he done the same thing to one of the other kids?  Yes.  Would I have been quite as harsh to him if it had been one of the other kids?  Probably not, unless it was Madison.  But he knocked over and was purposely mean to my child.  MY CHILD.  In my home.  And that is not okay.

I'm still shaking and it's been almost an hour.  It literally took everything in me, every fiber of my being, not to hurt him when I watched him do that.  Bailey was scared and confused, and she cried.  She's got a bump on her head and he left a small red mark on her arm where he grabbed her.  This is not the first time he's put his hands on another one of the kids here.

As expected, when his dad picked him up I told him exactly what A did and how I responded.  He just looked at A and said, "Aaaa...that wasn't very nice."  That wasn't very nice?!  You're damn right it wasn't very nice!  I feel like throttling the parent as much as the child at this point.

I am not the kind of parent who thinks that my kid can do no wrong and that she craps rainbows.  In fact, I'm the first person to admit that Bailey can be a punk sometimes.  I get that she's going to fall and get hurt often, and I never freak about it because it happens.  But this was another child, an older and bigger child, hurting her on purpose and I just totally freaked out.  I feel like throttling the parent right now just as much as I'd like to throttle A.  I'm sitting here now, still fully pissed at both the incident and A's father's response to it, and I almost want to call them and say that I will be terminating care for A effective immediately.  I won't do that...but I'd really like to.

Bailey's totally over it now and has probably already forgotten it even happened.  I, on the other hand, will have to restrain myself around A from now on.  He hurt my kid and the mama bear in me came out in full force.   He's lucky there are laws against hurting children right now.

I only wish I had a more uncomfortable place to make him sit from now on.

----------------------------------

For the record, by the time he comes to the door in the morning I will be cool, calm and collected and will be professional in my care.  But for right now, I'm angry and I'm owning it.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Who loves comments? I do!