Why WCA?

We were *so* thrilled with Emerson's daycare at the YWCA until six weeks ago. Then they hired a new site director who was either tasked with or took it upon herself to spend less money.

This is when we started to notice some changes. Emerson's primary teacher doesn't get there until 8. But the lady who is supposed to watch her before 8 doesn't get there until 7:15, or I should say isn't allowed to clock in until 7:15 and is reprimanded if she clocks in one minute early. Since the facility opens at 7, I usually show up a few minutes after 7 in order to be at work by 7:30 or earlier. If I got there before 7:15, I am allowed to leave Emerson in another room, but the site management made it clear with tone and body language that they weren't happy about it since Emerson is a big kid and shouldn't be in with the little babies.

This didn't really phase us...We thought it was just a transitional time, we'll give it a chance, it's not better anywhere else, etc.

Then a bunch of small things that started piling up. One day, I picked up Emerson and she was wearing one shoe. Which was on the wrong foot. It happens...I've done it once before myself...No big deal.

She came home once, red as a fire engine with a sunburn despite us having sent sunscreen. One mistake...she was fine the next day...no big deal.

I had to take Cricket to the vet this morning, so Rod dropped Emerson off at daycare. I was curious if any of the staff had shown up on time after the long weekend so I asked Rod about it. It still sounded hectic there according to him, so I dropped by this afternoon at the end of the toddlers' nap time.

Emerson apparently doesn't have a crib anymore. She has a mattress on the floor.

Which made it even more horrifying to see that the gate to her classroom was left open.

I wasn't worried about her getting out into the world since the front door is so heavy, but the lobby is not especially childproofed. Think computers on dangly cords and electrical outlets.

I sarcastically asked the office lady who was covering Em's room if the gate to the room was usually left open, expecting something resembling an apology. She said "no - if we did, the kids would be gone". Yeah - like they could have been just then.

This office lady was scrambling around trying to cover everyone else's breaks while answering the phone and handling other office and administrative tasks. I don't know if Em's "usual" teacher was out on break or sick or what. I say "usual" because she's had 3 teachers in the past 3 months.

The leaving the gate open, along with the dismissive attitude when I inquired about it has led us to make today Em's last day at this facility.

I'm taking tomorrow off and going to seek out care elsewhere. I have several good recommendations from people who are currently using care at these places (who presumably love their own kids). A few of which have openings now or in the near future.

This is actually going to turn into a feminist rant.

The motto of the YWCA is "eliminating racism, empowering women".

I do not currently feel very empowered.

1. I had to make the very difficult decision of whether to leave her there for the duration of the afternoon, or take her home and have to explain everything to my employer afterward. I have child care because, aside from illness, I want to be able to focus on my job during the day. One reason I think women are at a disadvantage in the workforce is that employers and potential employers sometimes assume that women are more preoccupied with their children than men are. I want to do everything I can to not give my employers and coworkers cause to believe this. And I honestly do believe that my employers "get" this about me and our other female employees.

2. After deciding that she was probably going to be OK there for a few more hours, my husband and I planned our next move. Do we pull her out now? Do we take time off of work while we find a new place? Who is going to take off the time? If we don't take off the time and something bad happens while a new place opens up, won't we regret it a lot? Are we overreacting? We decided that no, we were not overreacting and yes, we would regret it if something bad happened. It turns out that the employees at my husband's company had been reprimanded that very day for taking too much unscheduled PTO and have a release coming out in six weeks. And the other side of the coin of women being assumed to be responsible for children is that men are assumed NOT to be responsible for children. So Rod would probably get hassled more for taking time off of work for this purpose than I would. And in these tough economic times, yada yada yada. And since my husband makes more than I do anyway...the decision was complete. And that's how women get crapped on in the workforce. Child care is supposed to even out the playing field, but only if it is child care that can be trusted. If this drags out longer than next few days, my husband and I will work out a decent arrangement between us and with our employers so that neither of our careers suffers long term damage. But that's only because my career is important to me and my husband and I'm willing to fight for it if he ever happens to forget in the future. I'm lucky to have a guy who takes my place in the workforce seriously. A lot of women don't have that.

3. At the end of June, I was going to take my first few days off in quite a while that weren't directly parent- or child-care related. We were going to do some traveling. But nope, chances are I'll have to use these days off caring for my kid. Which will be fun and time well spent, but certainly not empowering.

4. And I'm one of the lucky ones. I'm lucky enough to have been at my job for 3 years and have a good, understanding relationship with my employers. I have paid time off. And if I use my paid time off, I have enough money saved so that I don't have to worry if I have to take a few days unpaid. A lot of women aren't so lucky. Many of the families I see there are on subsidy and appear to be going to hourly jobs that probably don't pay a whole lot. What do these people do when they see something fishy at daycare? Maybe they haven't been at their job very long. Maybe they are scared to approach their bosses about taking time off, out of fear of losing their jobs. Maybe they don't have paid days off and simply cannot afford to be without childcare, no matter how much they question its quality. Do you think these women feel very empowered?

I feel good about this decision to pull her out of this place. But it truly sucks that we've had to make it.

Memorial Day

I've never been a big fan of Memorial Day.

It marks the start of summer, which was always a difficult time for me as a kid. I didn't like school as much as I hated not being in school. I need to keep my mind very busy. If it isn't busy, it starts to go to strange places to keep itself occupied. Most of these places are unpleasant. I start worrying about irrational things.

When I was old enough to drive and get a job during the summers, it really helped the overactive mind thing. I was either working, sleeping, or out doing other things. But I still felt a sting of depression around Memorial Day, probably residual from when I was younger.

When I was in college, Memorial Day weekend always meant the start of a new job the next few days. One summer I worked at a daycare. One summer I worked as an intern in DC. The next I worked at OU doing housing studies all over the state. I wasn't necessarily dreading the jobs, but starting a new job is typically one of life's more stressful events, so I spent most of these Memorial Day weekends just trying to deal with my nervousness.

My first Memorial Day out of college was a bit depressing. I had only been in Tulsa a few weeks and the only people I knew were from work. I stayed at my apartment alone all weekend, except for going to try out All Souls Unitarian. There wasn't much going on there that weekend to get involved with. Also, that was the weekend of the I-40 bridge collapse, which killed about a dozen people, mostly from drowning. I have always thought that drowning would have to be the worst way to die so I kept replaying in my mind what those people must have gone through. And like I said, I have an overactive mind that gets worse when I'm alone and don't have much to do.

Since then, things have been better. The most stressful thing over the last 3 years was doing tech support for our international offices, who do not celebrate Memorial Day. So on Tuesday, we could always expect to have to do 2 days worth of work. So all in all, not too bad.

Last year, my dad came up to visit us from Oklahoma City. He read to Emerson and we ate hamburgers and hot dogs. It was a pretty decent day, except for me having a 102 fever and being lousy company. I know tomorrow will be tough, since I'm (obviously) big on remembering anniversaries of things and remembering what we were doing a year ago today, etc. I'll probably spend a fair amount of time thinking about how Dad isn't around to come see us this year.

And this year, we are struggling with Cricket. I've talked about Cricket before - she's the dog my family got when I was 14, and my dad has kept her since I left home. Rod and I took her in when Dad went into the hospital. She has a nasty skin infection that has not yet responded to antibiotics, and this is the 2nd or 3rd skin infection she's had in the past year. She doesn't seem too happy with her life anymore - no animation in her eyes. She likes to be pet, but I think it's only because it relieves her itching momentarily. She yelped and cried during her bath yesterday. She barks often, but I'm not sure if it's out of pain or just because she wants to get our attention. I am dreading taking her to the vet on Tuesday. I'm just going to write down everything to be sure I don't forget it, weighing my concerns about her pain with my fear of putting her down prematurely. She is a lot to deal with, and I worry that part of me just wants the convenience of not having to mess with her anymore. It's sad that I have to wonder if I'm really that bad of a person. I'll just take my cues from the vet to see if there's any financially feasible way to improve the quality of her life, and if not, do what we need to do to end her pain.

More things I know

On Emerson's birthday I mentioned that I didn't really know much about her yet. Here are a few things that I have either learned in the past three months or are clearer now.

1. Emerson apparently likes books more than the other kids in her class do. We knew she liked them, but every teacher she's had has made a big deal about how much she liked looking through the books and being read to.

2. She's a bit compulsive....She knows when things don't belong on the floor. She puts stray items on the table or when she is unsure, she hands the item to me or Daddy for disposal or to put in its proper place. She has kind of a thing about shoes too. If either my shoes or Rod's shoes are on the floor, she brings them to us. If we sit them down on the floor again, she insists that we keep the shoes in our hands. She likes to sort things too. Definitely a trait from me.

3. She's a people-pleaser. Another trait from me. She likes to be praised for any job she has done well.

4. She gives awesome hugs. Yesterday she ran across the yard to me with her arms up and ready to hug, as if she were flying. She also makes a content humming sound when the hug you give her is particularly good.

5. Emerson has a good sense of humor. Tonight she was putting blocks on top of my head and laughing and laughing and laughing about it.

6. She's very smart. She already knows which shoe goes on which foot. When we were staying in a hotel, she walked right up to the air conditioning system and flipped the lid to get to the controllers like she had been doing it her whole life.

7. She gets frustrated when she can't do something perfectly. Me again. There is a lid to her bucket of blocks. If she can't get the lid to stay on the bucket, she gets frustrated and cries. If I help her out, this is no good. She needs to have done it herself.

Here is a photo of her today. I like the look of pure joy on her face. Emerson was in the process of carrying Daddy's shoes across the room while also getting chased by (and chasing) the dogs. She doesn't typically wear dresses or skirts, but today was picture day at school. She usually wears solid colored pants and a print top and dark blue Velcro shoes that were purchased in the boys' section at Target. Sadly, I the teachers seem to give her more attention when she's dressed up like a cute little girl. We would think that the YWCA would be more mindful of this kind of thing, but no such luck.

From Emerson - Various

Mondays are hard....

Almost every Monday for the past 2 1/2 years or so until April, I called my dad during my lunch hour. I'd try to take a walk while I talked to him...sometimes I'd just sit in my car.

We'd catch up with events over the past week. He asked how Rod, Scott, Thomas, and Emerson were. We talked about how OU or the Dallas Cowboys had screwed up the past weekend. And we talked a lot about the TV we watched that week.

It was hardly ever ground breaking discussion....mostly small talk. But it was both of us taking time out of our days to let the other know we were thinking of them.

He almost always told me he was proud of me. I wasn't sure for what....I have a good job that I like a lot, but it's not like I've won the Nobel Prize or anything. I have a quiet little life...I go to church, I show up at work on time...I play with my baby, and with few exceptions that's pretty much it. Maybe pursuing my own idea of happiness is what he was proud of.

Since the beginning of April, I feel a bit hollow during lunch on Mondays. For the first few weeks, I was busy making phone calls related to his estate. But now there's not much else to do except move on. Last Monday, I went to get a $1.99 chicken fried steak meal at KFC because CFS was something he always liked. I'm probably rationalizing my food addiction but it helped me feel closer to him somehow.

I get sad when I think about all the stuff he's missing. Emerson's walking all around now....giving hugs and kisses and chasing dogs. Scott starred in a play 3 weeks ago and graduates this Friday. Thomas looks great after the surgery and is working hard on his recovery. Rod is down over 35 pounds since the start of the year.

All I can do is be proud of them on Dad's behalf.

April is over

Not a whole lot of time to write these days. I'm trying to do a better job of relaxing in the evenings, and I find I do a better job of that if I don't even turn my computer on at night. I'm

The total crap month of April is now over. On the 29th, I started feeling tired and achy and wondered if two days was enough time to die of swine flu. It would fit, after all. I did start feeling better, and the month ended with only two members of my family spending time in the hospital. To my knowledge at least. Not counting the urgent care trip that Rod and Scott took last weekend to get their heads to stop bleeding after a head to head collision involving a baby gate.

Three incidents with cars -- A minor tap on the way to the hospital for Thomas's surgery. The coil in the van went bad. Luckily, that was fixed quickly. The chemical odor in my car returned - the one that acts up at highway speeds after about an hour and gives me a headache and sore throat. Not coolant. Not exhaust. Nothing on fire. Midas's theory was that some new spark plugs would help the fuel burn more efficiently - that there was perhaps an imbalance of oxygen or something causing too much unburned fuel to make it to the catalytic converter, which could heat up after a while and filter into the car. No harm - the car needed them anyway if you believe the factory suggested maintenance guidelines and it ended up improving my mileage at least on my next trip to OKC. So far the odor has not returned but it was intermittent anyway so it will be hard to tell whether it is fixed or not. So several hundred dollars spent on car repairs.

Thomas got to go home from the rehab hospital (like for physical therapy - not for drug use) the same day as Dad's memorial service. I got to see him twice last weekend - he's looking good but I am sure he is getting bored by now spending most of his time at home.

The city gave us a nastygram about Cricket barking all day and all night. Understandable - I just didn't need the threat of 30 days in jail or a several hundred dollar fine this month. Cricket is almost 15. My family got Cricket when I was a freshman in high school, and Rod and I took her in when Dad went into the hospital last summer. We started crating her during the day, since we got a nastygram from the electric company saying that the meter reader felt threatened when Cricket was in the yard on meter reading day. Plus she for some reason chews on herself when she has enough room to move around and her skin was doing better if she was in a confined space. Lately she just hadn't had the bodily function control to stay in her crate and she is getting bad arthritis so staying in mostly one position all day was bad news, so we decided to take our chances with the electric company and leave her in the yard all day. Well apparently she barks at the door the entire time my husband and I are at work, and she barked all night and since the bedrooms are at the other end of the house from the back door we couldn't hear her. Anyway now we have a dog door, and Cricket is so anxious that she spends most of her time stumbling from one side of the door to the other to make sure that everything is okay on both sides. She is me in dog form. Luckily her skin condition is getting better and the meds for the arthritis we got this month are helping.

Emerson is a great gal. She's 14 months now. I find it hard to believe that just two months ago I was writing of her first birthday, and we're already a sixth of the way to another one. Losing my dad a month ago today, at just about this time, a few minutes after 10 - has gotten me to start thinking about my own role as a parent. I already did a morbid post on this several months ago - things I want Emerson to know or do if I don't get to see her grow up. But one can't help but think about the short time we have in this world - blah blah blah life is fleeting -- blah blah blah, etc. It is cliche, but there is a reason everyone talks about it. It is true.

I go through most of my life assuming now that everyone I love and care about is going to die soon. Or that I will. It leaves me in a fog of sadness most of the time but I think I'm a nicer person because of it.

It makes me want to send more greeting cards and buy more gifts.

It makes me want to put a big smile on Emerson's face every chance that I get.

It makes me want to hug my old old dog and tell her that everything is going to be okay.

It makes me make wise use of my time. I'm writing this after Emerson goes to bed because I don't want to miss out on any time with her. And don't even ask me how dirty our kitchen is or how much laundry I need to do.

It makes me want to tell my stepsons how proud I am of them and the young men they have become. I will have their backs in anything that they do.

I never leave the house or let Rod leave the house without a big hug and an "I love you".

It makes me want to live the kind of life I want to be remembered for. I want people at my memorial service to say "That Amanda was one hell of a broad". I want to be kind. I want to be generous. I want to be sharp as a tack. I want to be funny. I want to make a difference.

There was no real goal to this post. I almost wrote a break up note to Parenting Magazine, but remembered I have plenty other things I need to be doing. Rod summarizes one of the issues I have with them pretty well here and I left a comment on another blog here. And I guess if there's a magazine market for mommies who only really care about mascara and dressing up their little girls in trendy pink clothes and teaching their little boys that raising children is women's work, then who am I who judge? There's no advertising money for the kind of magazine I'd like to write - how to be frugal and not really care all that much about your appearance. But the magazines that do exist will provide plenty of opportunities to teach Emerson about manipulation and stereotypes, which should be a lot of fun too.