Sad Days

I knew this day would come, but I didn't picture it like this. We are going to have to say goodbye to Chrysalis Kids' Cocoon, our beloved daycare. They are officially closing the center on June 12. We were told that we had one month to find other child care. Ironic, don't you think, that an organization whose programs support women and children would throw us out with nothing more than a letter? Who can find child care in less than a month?

I'd rail more on them here but I'm saving my best material for the letter I'll be sending to their director.

Instead, I'm going to use this space to reflect on what an amazing place it has been for our family. Jack started at Chrysalis in the beginning of January 2006 - he was a little over 3 months old. I heard about it from Laura, who had worked there and also had her daughter in their care. She was the very first person I told that I was pregnant (after Chuck, of course) and she made me promise that I would call them THAT VERY DAY to get my unborn child on their wait list. I remember dropping him off the first morning. There was only one teacher there right then and she was busy doing something so I was asked to strap him into a swing (that teacher is gone now, by the way). I sobbed on my way to work, picturing my precious baby strapped in that swing all day. He wasn't, of course. As a matter of fact, there were periods of time when I would go pick him up and he would cry because he didn't want to leave. His first two teachers were Dominique and Alison, and they were fantastic (and neither were the Swing Teacher mentioned above). We went through some periods that were harder than others, but all in all it was a great fit. It was small and felt very much like family.

Then Miss Kay and Miss Kathy and Miss Andrea came. If you've been reading this blog, you know how very much we adore these people. Miss Kathy has left, but we still get to see her every once in awhile. But Miss Kay and Miss Andrea have continued to run the ship, along with Miss Norma - raising our children and keeping us sane. They have rubbed their backs while they fall asleep, carried them several blocks back to daycare after playground accidents, and dealt with fevers and throw-up and tantrums. They taught them the ABCs, to count, to tell jokes, to use the computer, the months in Spanish, and that "you get what you get and you don't throw a fit." They gave nicknames and hugs and told them they loved them.

We love them to. And we're going to miss them.

And we're stressed about finding a school even a tenth as warm and loving as the Cocoon has been. Jack must be picking up on the tension, because he's been offering Chuck and me beers since 7:45 this morning.