The Lady Who Takes Care of Your Children

The Lady Who Takes Care of Your Children

 I am a child care worker, joyously engaged with the two- and three-year-olds who call me Teacher and Miss Tewee. Your eyes are glazing over, right? I accept that. It’s not a glamour profession, and in fact, very few people regard it as a profession at all. I accept that too. Labels matter less to me than the gratification of doing an important job well.

 During my workday, I greet and hug, wipe away tears and other substances, resolve conflicts, entertain, invent educational games, direct art projects, monitor health issues and hygiene, answer questions, and listen to complaints. I roll on the floor, dance like a pirate, read and re-read books about dinosaurs or fairies, and devour countless plastic meals served to me on plastic plates. When I go home or go on vacation, I think about your children, hoping I’ve given them the awareness of being recognized, valued, and loved.

 It is not in my job description to love your children. It is only in my nature, and I could no more suppress this response than I could ignore their need for a diaper change. Just like you, I adore their chatter, their sensitivity, their amazingly original approach to making towers and railroad tracks. I feel frustrated when I cannot interpret what they are telling me or when they hit one another. I rejoice in their successes, and fret over setbacks. I call your children “my kids,” but I am respectful of the line between teacher and family.

 It’s hard to leave your child in a child care facility. I’ve been there—in fact, I was the mom who stayed too long and cried when saying goodbye, who noticed when staff were unenthused or tired, who wrote letters to directors. I appreciate and defend you moms who speak up and say what you mean. And I have one favor to ask of you.

 Please don’t take offense when I ask you to have your child screened for developmental issues. It’s alarming to hear that someone thinks your little one may not be at age level for certain accomplishments or achievements, and it’s very easy to brush off the suggestion by telling yourself I don’t really know your child. But I do know your child, and the most important aspect of my job is to partner with you to be your child’s advocate. Knowledge is power, and the results of a thorough screening can give you and me the tools we need to smooth the way for your child’s success. Labels are only labels, and kids are only kids for a short time.