Friday, May 19, 2006

No Doubt Now

You know that the day is off to a good start when the first person you help in the morning looks like she just crawled out of the back seat of her car, oozing cheap whiskey from her pores, missing all of her teeth except for one broken and black one in the front, and her cell phone ringer, which she has to answer despite the fact that you're in the middle of a transaction, is "Sweet Home Alabama".

Good Lord! This can't go on much longer! And it won't.

Between the clients, the doctors and the co-workers, I just can't take any more. I guess once you've made the decision to leave some sort of magical curtain is pulled back to reveal all of the things that you've been sort of denying for so long, or have been blinded to by buying into the mindset of the collective.

"We are the borg." I doubt I have a whole bunch of Star Trek fans as readers, though.

Anyway, on top of my horrible day, I got one more confirmation that I'm doing the right thing. The picture below is living proof of the piss poor care kids get in daycare.



Ok, so accidents happen. I understand that and fully accept that my kid is going to eventually have scratches and bruises. But why didn't I get a phone call to let me know that he'd been injured? Why didn't someone tell me anything about it before I picked him up and walked in to find him all beat to hell?

What happened? Well, according to his accident report (hey, at least I got one this time!) one of his classmates pushed him while they were on the playground and he fell and scraped his face on a piece of mulch.

Must've been one of the biggest, meanest pieces of mulch in the world! I mean, look at him! The scraping and bruising goes from the top of his forehead to mid-cheek, and just barely misses his eyeball!

So we're done with daycare. Done Done Done. I've still got one week of work left, plus an odd Tuesday because no one wants to work the day after Memorial Day, but Wil's mom has already confirmed that she'll keep him for us those days. I just can't send him back there again and feel good about it.

For the record. I wasn't mean to the staff, either. I was actually incredibly calm and collected, once the initial shock wore off. I earned my gold star for the day.

Ok, so nearly 11. I've still got laundry spinning, the boys are sleeping, and it's another day at work tomorrow. But Granny's taking the kiddo to the Public Works fair tomorrow, which means that he'll get to look at all kinds of big trucks, ("Ohhh! Vroom!") and maybe even get to sit behind the wheel of a few of them. That's like Jonas heaven! Hopefully she'll get some pictures for us.

Goodnight, y'all.

7 Comments:

At 11:59 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

OHHHH, big trucks! Say vroom to Jonas for me, and you will be assimilated. Hah, doubting that Trekkers are amongst your readers.

 
At 12:23 AM, Blogger me said...

Make it so!

;-)

 
At 9:30 AM, Blogger Eve said...

Oh! Poor J-Man! They didn't even CALL??? It's not like a little scrape or bruise on his legs, which are quite common for little kids. It is HUGE and on his FACE! If I were in that situation, everyone would've known JUST HOW PISSED I really was. I'm furious, and it's not even my kid! You are definitely doing the right thing. I'm just sorry that you (and Jonas) had to go through this.

 
At 12:05 PM, Blogger msubulldog said...

Poor Jonas. Will you have a chance to tell the daycare (or other poor souls who might choose it) WHY you're leaving them--i.e. they completely suck?
I bought a shirt for Jonas the other day (bought one for Aaron, too) and now I know it was a good choice! It has the falling guy warning sign on it and says "I do all my own stunts". I thought it was totally hilarious & will pop it in the mail by Monday. *grin*

 
At 12:54 PM, Blogger Mommyleek said...

Amanda, you must be psychic! That shirt is too funny! And so appropriate. His pediatrician calls this "the age of self-injury." I suppose that's about right.

Yeah, I made it pretty clear that I thought they sucked. But, to be honest, there aren't many daycares that do a much better job. I mean, they pay their employees minimum wage, so they don't exactly get top-notch childcare experts. And despite state regulations on class size, I think those regulations still give them more than any one person can deal with effectively. But it feels good knowing that he won't have to go back anymore. What a relief! The fact that I despise it is no real secret, and I think that even if I had him in one of the best schools in the county, I wouldn't feel much better about it.

 
At 12:56 PM, Blogger Mommyleek said...

D, Jonas says "vroom!" back, and also wanted me to tell Laura "Boo!". :)

Mike, I guess maybe everyone has at least seen an episode or two, eh?

Eve, it probably hurts me more than it hurts him. He doesn't even seem bothered by it at all, except for when I want to go rubbing neosporin on it. What can I say? Boys are tough. :)

 
At 3:21 AM, Blogger me said...

An episode or two? Everybody? Well, (ahem) some more than others. G4? Some satellite channel had a marathon of sorts last weekend. The original series. But now I'm hearing from my brother that if I don't watch Boston Public (for Shatner's bombastic portrayal of is it attorney Denny Crane?), he will disown me as his brother. And that ain't right. ;-)

Maybe this week, I'll watch.

My word verification is wshbddu

"wash Buddah?" I heard rubbing a Buddah statue is good luck, but that's kinda too much if you ask me. ;-) Happy weekend, Ang. Welcome back to MTC!

 

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