I finally took Megan to "playcare" last week for the very first time. (For those of you who do not know, playcare is daycare by the hour for stay-at-home moms. Basically, you fill out paperwork and pay a registration fee. After that, you can leave your child for short periods of time and you pay by the hour.)
Anyway, I've known about the place for many, many months but I have been too afraid to take Megan there. After several recent debacles at the grocery store, I finally decided to try it out. John has been working all kinds of crazy hours and I haven't been able to get my shopping done. Let me digress her for a moment and say I really needed groceries, and I can't stress that enough. I fed Megan from the trash can last week. Seriously, folks. I had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for breakfast one day and only had one end of the bread left. I threw it in the trash thinking, "What could I do with only one hind end of bread??" Later in the day, I couldn't find a thing to feed Megan for lunch. I remembered the end of bread in the trash and.......oh my gosh, I fed my kid from the trash can!!! In my defense, it was still in the plastic bag and wasn't buried too deep. I really can't believe I'm telling you all this. I guess confession is good for the soul.
Anyway, getting back to my story........I really needed groceries. I bit the bullet, filled out the paperwork, and took Megan to playcare. I had a lump in my throat but felt very comforted by the wonderful and friendly staff. They asked me what I wanted them to do if she cried for me after I left. Did I want them to try to comfort her for 5, 10, 15 minutes or longer even and then call me? "OH NO", I said. "If she cries for me, call me right away. I'll turn around and come get her." I checked my ringer on my cell phone to make sure the volume was at maximum.....ok, I checked it about 4 times. Alright, alright, I checked it more than 4 times. Then we walked into her classroom. I thought I would have to stay and play with her for a while and sneak out once she was occupied. Boy, was I wrong! She walked in like she owned the place and didn't even look back. The teacher looked at me and said, "Wow, I guess you don't need to stay after all. She's o.k!" With tears in my eyes I thought, "Well, I'm not o.k!" I reviewed with the teacher my list of instructions a few more times. As I walked toward the door, I stopped and turned around. I thought, "She's just too little to leave her. They won't take care of her like I will. No one will ever take care of her as good as her momma does." Then I remembered how empty my pantry was, I forced myself to get a grip, and I turned around to head to the store. (I think I might have checked the volume on my phone one or two more times before leaving.)
After racing through the store I went back to get her. She was still playing fine and they said she didn't cry once while I was gone. Everything was going great until I grabbed her diaper bag from the top of the long counter in the classroom. Stuck to the magnet on the top flap of the bag was a sharp knife. I took the knife in my hand and showed it to the teacher. She told me it must have been up on the counter waiting to be washed and somehow got stuck to my bag.
WHAT?? WHAT?? You had a sharp knife laying on a counter in the room with MY BABY??? It could have been knocked off the counter. My baby could have reached up and grabbed it. The knife could have fallen off my bag if I hadn't noticed it. There were BABIES crawling around on the floor!! I could have not noticed the knife and brought it home with me. Megan could have found it and put it in her eyes or her mouth! Why in the world would a playcare have a knife that sharp in a classroom with BABIES?? To make a long story short (well, ok, shorter) I cancelled my appointment for the following day and expressed my disgust with their safety practices. I thought to myself, "I knew I should not have trusted other people with my precious, sweet Megan Kate. NEVER AGAIN!"
About two days later, John yells from the next room........."Hey Lisa. Have you seen the small, sharp knife??" My heart instantly sank and I realized that knife, THE KNIFE, was ours! It stuck to the diaper bag on MY OWN counter and I brought it in to playcare. I had been the one to endanger all the little babies at playcare. I had pointed my giant finger of blame at THEM, and they were speechless. (They were probably wondering where the heck the knife came from!)
Now the only question that remains.......should I ask them for our knife back?? ha, ha. Really, I try so hard to be the perfect mother. All I can say is that she is my PRACTICE CHILD. Maybe I'll get this mommy thing right with the next one.