She has shared with me so many stories about her KIDS, some are heart breaking and some just make me smile. She loves her son, but she also loves her KIDS, those children that come to her center are HER KIDS as long as they are there. She has the ability and knowledge to take a job in another place and yet she stays in the daycare. She has enrolled in the masters program and yet continues to work in the daycare. She got married and had child of her own, all while working in the daycare profession, and then she received her bachelors degree, still working in the daycare. She graduated high school and took college courses until she received her associates degree, all while working in a daycare. You mentioned you don’t really know that much about your daycare worker, so I thought I would share with you about my daughter the daycare worker. As far as I can tell she didn’t respond to your blog, although I know she appreciated it or she would wouldn’t have shared and I would not of seen it. Thank you for realizing her work is important. She is the daycare worker that takes a son from a parent early in the morning, she is also the same one who hands him back to them at the end their work day. Heather, I found your blog because of my daughter, she is the woman that you speak of. You are like the building blocks my son loves to play with – adaptable, colorful, and full of potential. Your job is the most important job in the entire world, and I know I don’t thank you enough. I wish I remembered to tell you that more often. And because you know this, you do your best to raise my son into the human being I want him to be. It’s not easy for me to be away from my baby. You make my son feel safe, and you give him love. I know you’re exhausted and undoubtedly stressed.īut I also know you’re selfless. You spend hours of your day feeding other people’s children, but get only a short break to feed yourself. You’ve been on the receiving end of complaints for things over which you have no control. You’ve seen diapers far worse than I have. You’re underappreciated by those around you. You’re tired of washing your work shirt each night. It hurts my heart to know you may bury that pain every day. Maybe you have your own babies that you are away from. You pour your heart and soul into the babies you see every day, and I wonder if you have children of your own. You know everything about my son, yet I don’t even know your last name. Your life’s work is helping my child grow, and there is no price tag for that. Whatever it is, I wish I could provide it for you. Maybe you’re saving so you can go to college, start your own businesses, or buy a better car. You earn minimum wage while you try to save up for your next dream. You work long hours, and I doubt you’re compensated properly. I have so much to say, and so much to thank you for. Soon enough, I leave, knowing I’ll see you again in a few hours.īut, what if I don’t see you again? What if you decide not to return? It’d be a shame if I left everything unspoken. You greet me and prepare my son for his trip home, singing to him and telling him he is loved. Your feet are tired, and your back aches from bending, lifting, and carrying all day. Your shirt is stained, and your hair is pulled back. When I return nine hours later, you’re still there. All the while, you stand by smiling and promising me he will. You smile and take note, even though you know him–and every other baby–like the back of your hand.īefore I leave, I spend an obnoxious amount of time kissing my baby, squeezing him, and begging him to behave. As if I’ve forgotten that you’ve cared for my baby for half a year, I remind you what size bottles he needs, what food he can’t have, and what time he prefers to eat.
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