Saying good-bye.
I had two weeks of Lucitis, the equivalent of Senioritis, but with my passionate, strong minded daycare girl of over a year. One minute I would be asking (in my head), "Are you really crying about that?" And the next minute I was semi-close to crying on the inside because she was hugging me.
I don't know if her parents told her she would soon be saying good-bye to me, but I received many hugs those last two weeks. And they made me realize how much I really did love, or like, or some other strong word, her.
One time she got a time-out, and when she was done, she looked especially tired and sad. I asked if she wanted a hug, and she said yes. While her normal hug lasts .000264 seconds, just long enough to not interfere with serious play, this one lasted about 5 very long seconds. When we were done, I pulled away, ready to say some wise-sounding words. But then she hugged me again and held on for awhile. Then I again pulled away, thinking that surely we were done now, and she went in to hug me again. I waited until she was done, and then she ran off to play.
Wow.
On her last day, I gave her a little homemade book called, Reasons We Love Lucy, and each page had a picture of a daycare kid and a quote from them on what they love about her. Charlie said he loves to paint with her. And so on.
At pickup, her dad looked me straight in the eye and sincerely thanked me for everything. I felt happy. And sad.
That night, Jerry kept asking why I had such a spring in my step. And what the humming was all about. But in spite of these things I was still a little unsure.
My new group.
I realized long ago that adding or taking away just one kid has a huge impact on the whole group. So while I was glad to say good-bye to the drama, I was sad to say good-bye to such passion for life. And also the pink. Because excluding the newborn -- whose gender is completely irrelevant at this point -- I now have all boys.
Two three-year-olds, both boys.
Two two-year-olds, both boys.
Two babies, boy and girl, but gender not a factor.
Some stats for this week, the first week with my "new group":
Number of crying-for-no-reason spells: 0
Number of times I felt my heart pound out of my chest: 0
Number of times I contemplated quitting: 0
Number of tantrums: 2 (down from about 15)
Number of minutes they wanted to sit in circle time: 1 (down from 5-6)
So. I am bummed about that last item. Unless you consider circle time to mean running around the house shooting other kids with your index finger, it has been pretty non-existant.
There will always be some sort of a challenge, whether it is misbehavior, money, nap struggles, or circle time. I decided in the beginning that I didn't just want to watch kids -- I want them to learn here. But how do I do that if they act uninterested?
I had two weeks of Lucitis, the equivalent of Senioritis, but with my passionate, strong minded daycare girl of over a year. One minute I would be asking (in my head), "Are you really crying about that?" And the next minute I was semi-close to crying on the inside because she was hugging me.
I don't know if her parents told her she would soon be saying good-bye to me, but I received many hugs those last two weeks. And they made me realize how much I really did love, or like, or some other strong word, her.
One time she got a time-out, and when she was done, she looked especially tired and sad. I asked if she wanted a hug, and she said yes. While her normal hug lasts .000264 seconds, just long enough to not interfere with serious play, this one lasted about 5 very long seconds. When we were done, I pulled away, ready to say some wise-sounding words. But then she hugged me again and held on for awhile. Then I again pulled away, thinking that surely we were done now, and she went in to hug me again. I waited until she was done, and then she ran off to play.
Wow.
On her last day, I gave her a little homemade book called, Reasons We Love Lucy, and each page had a picture of a daycare kid and a quote from them on what they love about her. Charlie said he loves to paint with her. And so on.
At pickup, her dad looked me straight in the eye and sincerely thanked me for everything. I felt happy. And sad.
That night, Jerry kept asking why I had such a spring in my step. And what the humming was all about. But in spite of these things I was still a little unsure.
My new group.
I realized long ago that adding or taking away just one kid has a huge impact on the whole group. So while I was glad to say good-bye to the drama, I was sad to say good-bye to such passion for life. And also the pink. Because excluding the newborn -- whose gender is completely irrelevant at this point -- I now have all boys.
Two three-year-olds, both boys.
Two two-year-olds, both boys.
Two babies, boy and girl, but gender not a factor.
Some stats for this week, the first week with my "new group":
Number of crying-for-no-reason spells: 0
Number of times I felt my heart pound out of my chest: 0
Number of times I contemplated quitting: 0
Number of tantrums: 2 (down from about 15)
Number of minutes they wanted to sit in circle time: 1 (down from 5-6)
So. I am bummed about that last item. Unless you consider circle time to mean running around the house shooting other kids with your index finger, it has been pretty non-existant.
There will always be some sort of a challenge, whether it is misbehavior, money, nap struggles, or circle time. I decided in the beginning that I didn't just want to watch kids -- I want them to learn here. But how do I do that if they act uninterested?
Labels: childcare
posted by Andrea at 7:16 PM
2 Comments:
You are so sweet!! Reasons We Love Lucy. That was a wonderful idea!!
5 boys! Wow! Is there anyway you can change the lessons to be more physical? Sounds like they are on the go, and if you could somehow build the lessons around that they would participate easier? Just a thought.
Pssst...I tagged you for something else. :)
Post a Comment
<< Home