{Reposted} In praise of our daycare system

Since it's my second blogging anniversary this week, I have decided to repost my very first attempts at online self-publishing.

Originally published on March 18, 2008.
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I just want to take some time to express my appreciation for the daycare where LP goes, and for the whole system which makes it happen.

A few years ago, in order to help young families and invest in childhood, the Quebec government set up a whole nationalized daycare system, which would be heavily subsidized, and monitored in terms of quality of care, staff education, nutrition, etc. There have been problems and exceptions along the way, but the initiative resulted in arguably the best daycare system in the world. Parents only pay $7 a day for a subsidized spot, and there are spots in both family setting and preschool type places. The preschool spots are the most coveted, and are unfortunately rare, especially for younger kids. They always have a limited number of places available at the “pouponnière”, the nursery, where children under 18 months go, because babies and very young toddlers require a greater level of care, a higher worker/children ratio, some special equipment, etc…

Typically, a daycare with 60 kids will only have 5 or 6 “pouponnière” spots. Since siblings of kids already going there and children of the staff have priority, it usually means that there are only a couple of spots available each year, and waiting lists normally contain hundreds of names. When meeting other moms at the park, at the vaccination clinic, at the cardio-stroller classes, daycare is always the choice conversation topic, even more so than breastfeeding, development milestones, or babies’ sleep patterns…

The system creates a real bottleneck because probably 80 to 90 percent of parents looking for a daycare spot have “pouponnière” age kids, since a maternity leave here lasts either 9 months at 75% of your salary, or one year at 55% of your salary. So what people do is register on several waiting lists as soon as they find out that they are expecting, hoping that they’ll have a spot by the time their mat leave is over, more than a year and a half later. We waited until the end of first trimester, because we didn’t want to jinx ourselves, and frankly, we didn’t have high hopes… We live in a town where people move from the city when they want to start a family, where there might be more strollers than cars, and where most of the parents I know could never find a subsidized spot, having to rely on sub par, expensive daycare for four years instead.

We were reluctantly ready to do the same, but we must have done something good in our lives. About two months before returning to work, one glorious afternoon during LP’s nap, the phone rang and I nearly choked when the lady spoke. We had a spot, one of only three available that year. I’m still wondering whether there was a mix-up in the paperwork, but hey, I jumped on the opportunity, still in utter shock. This was nothing less than the parenting equivalent of winning the lottery.

We absolutely fell in love with the place, and six months later we’re still in the honeymoon phase, I guess. Whatever concern or fear or residual guilt I felt about going back to work dissipated the first time I opened up the door, instantly replaced by the palpable good vibes emanating from the inside. It was all about the children, a nearly magical place filled with laughter and love. The building itself is brand new, really functional, and surrounded by a really cool yard where kids can run and ride tricycles and pretend they’re monkeys and even play in the paddling pool during the summer months. The nursery is like a protected haven, where LP has his own little crib in one of the “nap rooms”, his own high chair, mountains of toys, and unconditional love.

I will forever be grateful for his teachers who took my difficult child, went the extra mile during the horrifying first weeks when he just shrieked during the entire time he was there, and helped transform him into the easygoing, happy toddler that he now is. He loves them so much, he can’t wait to be transferred into their arms in the morning, kissing their face and stroking their hair. These women are the most patient, competent, nurturing, and attentive I have even seen. I know that it’s not easy to take care of an unstoppable, accident-prone, moody one year-old all day, so I can’t imagine what it’s like to have ten. Yet, diapers are changed and noses are wiped promptly, no one is ever left to cry for more than a minute, and most importantly, everyone is held, cuddled and given plenty of attention.

All day long I’m thinking about him and always juggling things in order to leave the office as early as I can and rush to his side, because I basically want him to spend as little time as possible away from us, but really I needn’t bother. He’s just enjoying himself so much that he now sometimes cries when he sees me at the door, since he knows it means he’ll have to leave. I love it when I can sneak in without him seeing me, and just watch him play for a few minutes.

It’s so funny to realize that he “has a life” even when we’re not around. When my days are tough, I immediately recall an adorably mellow moment I stumbled upon a few months ago and picture him there, eating his afternoon snack and sort of dancing and clapping along to a Jack Johnson tune among a bunch of wiggly, smiling toddlers, with the enthusiastic encouragement of his caregivers.

I consider myself a good cook, but I have to say that the food he has there is outstanding. They actually have a chef, a nice young woman who makes everything from scratch every day, and the fare is yummy, healthy, varied, colorful and appetizing all at once, with the occasional home-baked treat. Food has always been important to me, and it nearly brings me to tears to see that such a level of effort and attention is brought to feeding small children. I have to admit that LP has never been really difficult when it comes to food, but he eats with such appetite while there, his caregivers still mention it everyday, still somewhat incredulous.

For Halloween, they covered the whole place with black crepe paper from floor to ceiling and organized a “haunted house day.” We have regular “slumber parties” when everyone including the director shows up in PJs and slippers, and they even organized a “beach party” in January, when they cranked up the heat inside, blasted out some Beach Boys songs, and laid out paddling pools in the hall. They have plays, crafts, songs… When the weather is nice, they go for long walks with the “stroller bus,” in which all ten kids from the “pouponnière” fit, and which sends them into prolonged giggling fits. Really, I sometimes ask myself whether he finds us boring during the weekend.

For us, there was definitely a “before” and “after” daycare in our life. For someone who once wished I could have stayed home with my kid longer, I am constantly amazed by the positive effects it had on his development, in terms of socializing, taming down his anxiety, forming healthy bonds with adults other than his parents, realizing that he is not the center of the world, etc. I am so glad things worked out that way. I am now a firm believer in the “it takes a village” approach to child-rearing. And all this, for $35 a week!