Let me take you back to the origins of Humans Becoming LLC. When my oldest son was 4 years old. He had big beautiful brown eyes, an infectious laugh, a sense of curiosity, a large heart with the capacity to hold love for anyone, and a motor that kept him in constant motion. He was my "Pooh" and I was protective of him as I was for his brother. I dropped him off at the new daycare (a church site), gave my beautiful big boy a kiss and off he went. The director herself assured me that he would be fine, however, taking care of him was my job. Caring for him was my job. Teaching him was my job. However, I knew he needed to have a structure and the interactions that would have him ready for Pre-K the following year. He was there for one week and two days.
I received a call on a Tuesday mid-morning. "Hi, Ms. McEwen, this is______. I would like for you to come in earlier than normal to pick up ____. I want to speak to you about some concerns we have regarding your son." My response was "Yes, I will come in. Is everything alright? Is he hurt? Did something happen?". Her response in return was "No, no, no, he is fine. I just have some concerns and I want to speak with you about them.". "Yes, ma'am" was all I could say and ended the call. The longest time I had encountered at this point with both of my children were their births. However, I knew, I had to wait and then go have a conversation with the Director.
She led me to the classroom where he and 15 other children were. My baby boy was running with other children in the classroom, he was laughing, smiling, and full of joy! The Director looked at me and asked "Do you see what I see? Do you see the problem?" Now I thought it was a joke. I responded with no. She said "In my 25 years of being a Childcare Director, I want you to know that there is something wrong with your child and we do not have the capacity to take care of him. He can finish out the week but he cannot come back.". I felt as if the air was knocked out of me and I began to run EVRYTHING I had given him to eat, play with, drink, wear, or touch had done SOMETHING to my child. Then I looked in the room again. I saw children running, playing, screaming, and being 4 years old. My response was simple but it was the response she was not expected to hear.
" As a mother, your delivery of your observation was rude, crass, and unprofessional. Your assumption of my son's behavior seems to be clouded with maybe what you think you may know of him. I see a room full of children running and playing as 4 year old's do. I also see two adults not engaging with these children, so I have a concern if your daycare was really the place for him to be. When you did your "observation" of my child, how long did you spend time with him or did you spend time with him? Thank you for your service of watching my child this past week, but I will pull him today and he will not come back. If I were you, I would work on how to talk to people".
I opened the door and called his name with a face full of love he ran to me screaming "Mommy, Mommy, you are here!". It was then that I knew I would ALWAYS be here...but I had to decide, what do I do now.