Misery

I try to be very receptive when staff at our daycare discusses behavioral issues with me about our children.   For the most part the minions are very well behaved, however Chris and I are both keenly aware that Miss Molly can have an explosive temper and that Jack likes to wrestle like a puppy.  So when the daycare talks to us about discipline I take it very seriously, to the point where Chris thinks I am being ridiculous, but I don't think he understands my perspective:

When I was about two and a half years old my mother decided that I would benefit from some interaction with children my own age, so she enrolled me in a local nursery school a couple of days a week, I believe she even got a part time job for the express purpose of paying for said nursery school.  There was one tiny problem with this plan, I was miserable there and in turn put every ounce of my being into torturing the staff at the daycare.  My unapologetic apathy and disgust towards this place remains one of my very first memories, although I couldn't and still cannot pinpoint exactly what made me unleash my reign of terror upon this playgroup.

For months I refused to eat anything they tried to feed me*, I wouldn't use the potty (even though I was fully potty trained), I cried, I screamed, I fought and battled every single thing that they wanted me to do with the fire of a million suns for hours on end.  It was epic.  I was a toddler super villain:  a staff member quit because they couldn't take it any more.  Eventually I was expelled.  My mother says she still remembers picking me up: sitting on the steps of the daycare with a plastic bag full of pee soaked underwear, with tears running down my face - I wish she'd taken a photo.  Six months later when I asked my mom if I could go to pre-school, she laughed in my face and told me I would have to wait until kindergarten.

11 years later I showed up at a babysitting job; it was a 4PM shift in the summer and I was relieving their nanny.   As luck would have it this nanny was the same woman who I had forced out of her job over a decade ago.   She remembered me instantly and proceeded to go into great detail about what an awful little beast I was.  It was incredibly awkward and I didn't know what to say, so I just shrugged, listened and eventually asked her if the boys I was sitting for had already had their snack of cabbage.  She was unimpressed with my response and left in a huff.  Who holds a 14 year old accountable for something they did when they were a toddler?  When I told my mom what had happened she wasn't very surprised.

Knowing I had this tendency towards villainy I wanted to ensure that "the dark side" doesn't impact Luke and Leia until they are ready to comprehend the full power of the force.



*In my defense I recall them trying to feed me copious amounts of cabbage for a reason that is still unknown to me.