A Change Is (Possibly) Gonna Come

So, after several weeks of general dissatisfaction, we’ve decided to possibly switch daycares. It seems to be going around since I know our friends Jean and Harold recently decided to leave their daycare (our old one) in NoNJ.

We’ve never been quite comfortable with the place we currently use. It’s very chaotic, it’s on a public road, there’s no security, the playgrounds are very small and poorly laid out, the rules are weird, and it just hasn’t felt RIGHT. The only thing right is the cost – that’s right up our alley. But, you get what you pay for sometimes, right? Add in the fact that they claim CootieBoy is aggressive whereas I just think he’s a typical 2 1/2 year old boy. Add in the fact that they claimed he had pink eye when he didn’t. Add in the fact that one of CootieGirl’s classmates was unexpectedly removed by her parents a few weeks ago. Add in the fact that we think we’ll be asked to leave soon given CootieBoy’s gregariousness on the playground (he is currently on 30-day behavior probation and if he doesn’t improve he’ll go to super-double probation and then get kicked out) (I kid – I don’t think they have super-double probation. It’s quite possibly that if he attempts to poke out the eye of another classmate they’ll just kick him out entirely, no 51st chances). (I kid – he’s only attempted to poke out the eye of one fellow classmate, not 50).

Fortunately, we think we found a good place. A lot cleaner, a bit closer to home, open half an hour later, same cost, food included, bigger and newer playgrounds (and more of them), and a bit more secluded and private location. Really, the only thing this new place is missing is cameras in the classroom for parents to login online and see what’s going on throughout the day and who’s to say they won’t implement that later on? Lastly, it’s a Christian daycare, so the overall environment would hopefully be better (the teachers at our place tend to yell. Not in an angry way, just in a way to be heard over the chaos that is little boys kicking each other in the groin to see what happens (no lie – I saw a kid do that today as I was dropping off my kids)).

The problem? The sticky wicket, as it were? WAITING LIST. Yep – the place is in such demand there is a waiting list. Oh, they have room for CootieGirl RIGHT NOW, but no room for CootieBoy until at least summer’s end. And since they’d place CootieBoy in the 3-year-old room, they’d require he be potty-trained upon starting. Which he’s not even close to being ready for much less have it accomplished by his third birthday in mid-August. Either we, we did sign up for the waiting list, and I hope all those children ahead of us in line suddenly opt to move out of the area so we can be called about open spots for D-man. Cuz if I know he’s going to go there, I’ll happily use my remaining vacation days (I have five of them not planned yet) to let CootieBoy run around the house only clad in Spiderman underwear uncontrollably peeing on all the furniture while I follow him around with a bottle of Carbona and a wad of papertowels until he is potty-trained. No lie. (okay, maybe a little lie – he prefers his Diego underwear. And CootieBoy calls them panties. (That’s what happens when you have an older sister – you use her lingo)).

I’m in a parenthetical kind of mood, aren’t I?